Mistress of Pemberley
by DevilishlyTempting
Summary: Darcy enters into a marriage of convenience. Years later he ventures to Hertfordshire and meets Lizzy. A struggle ensues between his honor and his undying love (& lust) for his soul mate. Unable to escape his marriage he must choose between saying goodbye to Lizzy forever and installing her as a different sort of "Mistress" of Pemberley. HEA; Explicit; Historically Inaccurate; OOC
1. Chapter 1

Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire looked at his wife and sighed. Her beauty had long since faded – not that age had any part in that. In fact, Darcy was very convinced that if you asked any man in the county if his wife was a beauty they would have fallen over themselves singing her praises even now as she was full with child. For him, however, his wife was a reminder of everything he couldn't have, a constant reminder of the thing he desired more than any other in the world, the thing that was just at his fingertips, the thing he couldn't have. But more than all of that, she was a reminder of his greatest mistake.

When Fitzwilliam Darcy had married Felicity James, his rationale had been solid enough. His sister needed a woman in her life who could show her the grace and elegance of proper society. She needed a role model and a friend. Felicity had always been so wonderful to Georgie. They had been close and she was someone Georgie had confided in. Of course now they barely spoke and Georgie was close to tears every time Felicity was in the same room. Georgie didn't play piano anymore and while no one would tell him the story, it had happened when he had left the pair of them on their own for a week and he just knew it was Felicity's fault.

His second reason was that Pemberley was in need of a mistress. Mrs. Reynolds had run it well enough and looking back, he should have seen that his beloved housekeeper ran his home better than any wife could have. Sorry. Ex-housekeeper. Felicity had been too particular, had changed so much and when she recommended throwing out his mother's favorite chair Mrs. Reynolds had had enough. She quit, leaving him with only his wife to manage the house. Felicity had been so kind as to gift Mrs. Reynolds the chair upon her departure and he was certain that the lady in question took great comfort with the familiar furnishing of her beloved mistress rather than "resent the piece which got her fired" as he had later heard his wife gloat over the affair with her personal maid. Darcy had gotten physically sick at that and had to get away from the woman for a short while. He had taken up his friend Bingley's offer to come stay with him at his new estate, a place he was leasing in Hertfordshire.

That was where he met her. In the end, it was everything Miss Elizabeth Bennet was that showed in stark contrast all that Felicity Darcy, nèe James was most certainly _not_.

Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire was an honorable man. His peers, upon growing bored with their wives, took up their needs with women they could compensate for their time but even as he grew to hate his wife, Darcy knew he could never be that man. He would never buy love and he would never dishonor his wife in such a way. He had loved her once, after all. Or so he had thought. Until Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire fell in love.

She was a country miss. Her family was appalling. He was married. He had a duty to his wife and more so, a duty to his sister to keep the honor of her last name so pure and wholesome that she could marry where she chose. (So that she would not be as miserable as he was, he told himself sometimes when he had imbibed a few drinks and was being particularly honest with himself.) He had gone away, but not before, in one of those alcohol fueled honest moments, he had begged Bingley to marry the girl that would make him happy, not the one that would bring him greater wealth and connections. Hours after this heart filled monologue, Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire had fled into the night. He had returned home a week later, quiet, miserable, and never to take to his wife's bed again. What did it matter? She had given him a son (Victor, because apparently his centuries long family tradition of naming firstborn sons their mother's maiden name was laughable to her.) and was expecting again. She was in confinement around Easter which meant she would not be able to take their annual trip to Rosings Park but encouraged her husband to go anyway. For the first time he could remember, Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire, was excited to go to his Aunt Catherine's.

That excitement turned to an even mixture of ecstasy and anguish the moment he heard her announced. Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourne in Hertfordshire. Looking into her eyes as she played piano, her fingers moving nimbly over the keys, he found himself telling her that his sister used to play but had been discouraged by someone close to her and had henceforth lost her passion for it. He didn't tell anyone that. When asked by those who knew Georgie and her passion for music well, he simply noted that she preferred painting and had decided to spend her time perfecting her skills in that arena. Miss Elizabeth had smiled up at him and said, _"If it is sincerely her passion she will return. I find it is impossible to truly leave behind something one loves so completely. And when she finds her way back, her doting brother must encourage her as much as he can to counteract any discouraging remarks."_ She had turned back to her keys then but was not finished speaking. _"My fingers do not move over these keys as skillfully as others but I enjoy the music as well as the making of it. Perhaps she need not worry so about her performance as her enjoyment."_ Fitzwilliam Darcy felt his heart throb as she spoke. The country miss, caring more about his sister's – a girl she had never met – enjoyment of her art than in the accomplishments of a young lady that Felicity had harangued Georgie about when she lapsed on her practicing of one of the skills Felicity found wanting in her.

Days later he had run into her on her morning walk. (No one could blame him of doing so on _purpose_ could they?) They had chatted amiably and he found himself extoling all of Pemberley's beauties to her. This led to the realization that he wished to show her Pemberley for himself. He wished to lead her through the gardens, show her the hidden pathways, and he desperately wished to know what she would think of the few rooms left with his mother's furnishings. As their morning walks became an unspoken agreement between the two he found himself wondering what would have happened had he been unmarried upon venturing to Hertfordshire. Would he have been able to convince such a charming gem to marry him? Would he have been able to get her to fall in love with him? She had been one of the first people in Hertfordshire to befriend him. He knew he came off as cold and standoffish. (He was just shy!) His wife always did the talking in town, though he knew that in a country group like this, she wouldn't do much more than gossip endlessly with that annoying Caroline Bingley. (Elton. Caroline Elton, he had to remind himself. She had married soon after Bingley's engagement. He supposed she didn't want to let her brother's marriage to a _country miss_ ruin her chances and had landed on a man quickly – with Felicity's support of course. Elton had been his acquaintance before the chap had ever met Caroline.) The point was, that Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley knew how others perceived him. And yet she gave him a chance. (He thinks very much that it had something to do with his sneaking off during the ball to read a book she later admitted was one of her favorites. She had caught him hiding in the shadows with Milton's Paradise Lost when she had stepped outside for some air. She had been about to say something when she caught site of the book at which point she looked up at him with wonder. Before either could speak, the sounds of approaching footsteps rang out and instead of giving him up, she had simply smiled mischievously and headed off the bothersome Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst before they too could stumble upon him. From then on they engaged in intelligent conversation with each meeting and found that they shared many of the same interests. It wasn't long until Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire, married man, was in love with Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourne in Hertfordshire, young, vibrant maiden with a thousand prospects before her. It wasn't long after that, he convinced his young friend to follow his heart just before fleeing from his own. A week later, his wife told him she was expecting and he put his fist through a wall, miserably wishing that a different young lady had just told him she was carrying his child. And we all know it isn't long afterwards that the hero and heroine of this story (and many others) find themselves walking together each morning through Rosings Park, talking, laughing and falling desperately and madly in love with the other.

This, dear reader, is where the story truly begins. Sit back, relax, and hold onto your feels as Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire and Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourne in Hertfordshire tell us their tale.

* * *

I had to go back. I had stretched this trip on longer than I should have. Fitzwilliam was barely speaking to me and my child was due in less than a week. Like it or not, I had to go to my wife. Not home. That place hadn't been home for me for a very long time. In fact, I found myself quite without a place to call home, these days. The lanes and trails in Rosings Park, perhaps? After all, they were filled with _her_ , and what could be more 'home' than that? Her hand rested lightly on my arm as I escorted her around the duck pond for the fourth time now. Did she realize we'd been going in circles? Or was she as pleasantly distracted by the conversation and company as I?

"Miss Elizabeth," I began, nervous for her reaction. "I'm afraid I must alert you of my imminent departure." Her gate slowed and her brow was furrowed. But what did that mean?! Damn. I was horrible at reading her emotions. I never understood…I just wanted to understand her. To know everything about her. To read her and know her as well as my parents knew and understood one another with no more than a glance at the other's expression.

"How imminent?" she asked after a moment of contemplation.

"Tomorrow morning."

"So soon!" She exclaimed without thought. After a moment, she composed herself. "Indeed, Mr. Darcy. That is a rather sudden change. May I ask what has prompted it? Nothing is wrong, I hope."

"Not at all. In fact I was meant to leave weeks ago." A month. I was meant to leave 5 and a half weeks ago. "I extended my stay at the behest of my aunt who wished my help with estate matters." Not really. I stayed to spend more time with you. I stayed for you.

"You are an attentive nephew. Mr. Collins is often extolling your praises, sir." A glint of humor flashed through her eyes and she smiled. "In fact I am quite surprised you haven't been able to hear him all the way up at Rosings." I smiled.

"Was that what that tedious buzzing noise was this morning?" I exclaimed, playing along. "And all this time I thought there was a bee following me about."

"A tedious bee, indeed." She teased, smiling. God but I loved her smile. "So your aunt's work for you is finished, then? Her worker bee is now flying away from his queen?" More than you know.

"I must depart. It cannot be put off any longer. My cousin is impatient to depart and I am cutting it quite close to the ending of my wife's confinement. I don't suppose she would be terribly happy with me were I to miss our child's birth." The words came out bitterly but not so much as I felt them. Felicity's child. Were it Eliza- Miss Elizabeth's child I wouldn't have left her side for the whole of her pregnancy. If Elizabeth were mine I would not ever leave her side. We walked in silence for a few more steps before she stopped suddenly and turned her head away from me.

"Miss Elizabeth, what is it?" I asked, instantly worried. When she turned back I froze. Tears were dripping down her cheek.

"Forgive me, Mr. Darcy. I don't know what's come over me." Instantly I passed her my handkerchief and she took it, dabbing at her tears.

"Tell me of your troubles Elizabeth." I breathed, hardly believing I had spoken my thoughts aloud. She looked up at me.

"I am a very foolish girl." She said simply. "I have acted in a foolish manner and I am embarrassed so I cry. Forgive me, Mr. Darcy."

"You are many things, Elizabeth. But foolish could never be one of them."

"Very foolish." She insisted. "Improper, too. If your aunt knew she would be scandalized and I would be thrown out of Kent." She tried to joke, forcing a smile.

"And so you would return to Hertfordshire in shame then?" I said, trying to pick up on the tone of her teasing now and failing slightly. I didn't know what she was getting at. I couldn't understand why she would cry.

"No." She insisted, forging ahead at a brisk pace and carrying her head high. "No they know me far too well there. They would see what a foolish, improper little girl I'd been and they would laugh at me. No. I shall simply have to quit the country entirely. Perhaps a journey to Spain or Portugal would do well. I could learn Portuguese. What would you think of my speaking Portuguese, Mr. Darcy?"

"I should think you would do the language a great service." I answered honestly. "Of course if you were to learn Portuguese I should have to bring you to Derbyshire at once to teach it to me and my household so that we could still write letters to you after you have quit the King's English altogether." She looked at her feet as we walked and I pretended not to hear as she sniffled.

"To your home, sir?" She asked, quietly. "So that I could teach you, and your sister, and your wife?" Was it my imagination or did her voice break ever so slightly when she had mentioned my wife.

"Very likely my wife would have no wish to learn the language." I replied truthfully once more.

"A proper lady then. She shall speak French and all the other modern languages and all the while you shall all be thoroughly amused by my speaking only Latin and Portuguese." She was crying again.

"Elizabeth," I began. How on earth could she not call herself a proper lady? How could she place someone as vapid and horrendously inferior to her as my wife in such a place of honor in comparison to herself? For surely that was what was meant in her brief dialog.

"No, Mr. Darcy. You are correct. What a picture we would make. Though I suppose that your sister would be horribly miserable being subjected to these lingual wars we would wage, one tongue against another and I would be a terrible imposition upon your family in that way. So you see. It is best I tell you nothing of my foolishness so that it can never get back to Lady Catherine and I am free to visit my dear friend Charlotte whenever the fancy strikes me." A smile was once again forced onto her face, shining through her tears. I gripped her arm and pulled her back.

"Elizabeth. Tell me. What is it?" She blinked a few times, clearing the tears away and looked up at me, misery emanating from her.

"I've gone and fallen in love." My heart clenched. No. This day was sure to come. The day she fell for some fop who didn't deserve her and I had to watch as she was married to _him_ and had _his_ children. I would die. In that moment I knew that if I had to watch this happen I would die. "What could be more foolish than that? And what's more he doesn't love me back. How could he? He is smart and educated and from the highest echelon of the Ton. He is charming, and handsome and admirably tall which all men should strive to be if possible. He is everything. And a man like that wouldn't hazard more than a glance at me." It was Fitzwilliam. She was in love with my cousin and she felt he, the son (Second son! He wasn't even to inherit the title!) of an Earl wouldn't look her way. As though she didn't deserve better than he. As though she didn't deserve everything. "As I said. I am an incredibly foolish girl." She turned and began to walk away. "And even if by some chance he considered me worthy he could not for I've been so very foolish and improper as to fall in love with a married man." I froze. "There, Mr. Darcy. I knew I would shock you. Though as you are about to leave Kent I do ask that you don't kick me out as well. I should rather like to stay until the end of the week at least before I return. Mama will be in the midst of planning Jane's wedding and I don't think I want to be too close while she's-" My lips cut her off before she could finish the sentence.

Bliss. That was all I could describe this moment as. Her lips were soft against mine and moments after she realized what was happening she was kissing me back. (!) Her lips were moving against mine and her small, lithe body was pressed up against my chest, warm and soft. My arms slipped around her back and I held her close, pressing into her. Her hands reached up and held my neck, pulling me to her, her fingers playing gently with my hair. It was me. She loved me. Suddenly she was no longer pulling me to her but shoving me back. I stumbled away, my lips red and swollen from hers, my heart breaking as she stepped away from me.

"What are you doing?" She hissed. "You're married! You have a wife! She's about to give birth to your child!"

"I love you." I told her. "I've loved you for a very long time and I've been cursing God above for allowing me to marry Felicity before I ever had the chance to meet you. It was a marriage of convenience. I needed a mistress for my home, my sister needed a companion, a friend, someone to show her how to be a lady. I had just let go of her companion Mrs. Younge who had been stealing Georgiana's trinkets and selling them for extra cash. I thought a wife would solve my problems. I never knew…I never realized that I could feel like this. Had I known what love was I would have waited for eternity to find you Elizabeth. I love you. I…" I closed my eyes. "I love you. But I wouldn't for a moment wish to ruin your chances at happiness by ruining you with a discovered kiss." I stepped back, tears welling in my own eyes. Why God? How was this fair? To send such utter perfection to me, to send my true soul mate to me and to force me to keep her at arm's length. "You are my best friend, Elizabeth." I said truthfully. "I would never do anything to hurt you."

"I have long since considered you my best friend, Mr. Darcy." She began. "But lately…" She trailed off. "It is as I said. I am in love with a man I can never have. What am I to do, Mr. Darcy?"

"Fitzwilliam." I begged.

"What?"

"Please, call me Fitzwilliam. I need to hear you say my name, just once. Please."

"Fitzwilliam." She sighed. I closed my eyes. God but if that wasn't the greatest sound in the universe: The woman I loved sighing my name out having told me moments before that she loved me too. God was a cruel deity to bring me so close to heaven only to make me stand outside the gates, watching what could have been play out in my mind a thousand times. "What are we to do? We are meant to be together I am certain of it and yet it is impossible."

"Elizabeth,"

"Lizzy." She insisted. "If I am to call you Fitzwilliam I must hear you call me Lizzy."

"Lizzy." I smiled. "My Lizzy." She closed her eyes, crying and smiling all at once. I reached out my hand to brush away a stray tear and brought the offending water droplet to my lips, tasting it. She looked at me in wonder and I at her.

I couldn't say who moved first but the next moment brought her into my arms once more, her lips on mind, her hands gripping my hair tightly. I pulled her to my chest and kissed her passionately. I slid out my tongue to caress the bottom of her lip and she stilled slightly, opening her lips for me as though she was experimenting with this new sensation. When I slid my tongue along the edge of hers she moaned into my mouth and opened her lips further, experimenting with her own tongue on mine. I shivered. Never before had something felt so good, so right. She was the one I was meant to be with, I was sure of it. I moved my lips off hers (taking great pride in the protesting whimper she made at the loss) and relocated them to her neck. I sucked, licked, nipped at her soft skin, burring my face in the crook. I could smell her hair, something almost floral about it, and taste her skin and it was beginning to be too much for me. It had been a long time and certain anatomical parts were…ahem…excited…at this sensory overload. I could feel myself getting harder and harder and I knew that in a moment I would have to pull back so as not to scare her or ruin this moment by cheapening it. I loved her. She deserved my love. I couldn't ruin my beloved. I would have to take care of matters on my own later. A rustling noise from the bushes behind me startled us and we both sprang apart, instantly fixing our appearances, half formed explanations of falling down the nearby hill rising to my lips before a small rabbit hopped into the clearing. We both looked at each other and laughed. Slowly she returned to my side, taking my hand in hers, our fingers interwoven.

"We can't do that again." She said, her tone conveying her grief at the sentiment. I nodded.

"I'll not be the ruination of you." She looked up at me sadly.

"Don't you know? You've already ruined me for all other men. How could they live up to you?" I closed my eyes and kissed her forehead.

"As have you for me, my darling Lizzy."

"Go." She said suddenly. "Go back to your wife. If we drag this out it will only be harder and harder to leave. Go back to her, raise your son." She sighed. "Forget about me, Fitzwilliam." She stepped back and disappeared, crying into the foliage. "Forget about me."

I sighed. "Never."

* * *

 **Author's Note: What do you think so far? This is the first time writing fanfiction that I've actually plotted out this far ahead...I'm not sure if that means I will be updating more frequently or if my story will have fewer plot holes or what but I actually have a plan! Yay! This chapter is rated T however that is going to change either with the next chapter or the one after that so be sure to change your filter settings if you are searching for this...or better yet...just follow it! Then you'll know if there's an update! (see what I did there...hehehe) This is going to get pretty smutty so if you aren't here for that...sorry. Try a different fic! I hope that you all enjoy reading this and I would love to hear what you think! If you have advice, suggestions, critique, whatever, please review or PM me. I am open to commentary of any kind - positive or negative - because I truly am trying to improve my writing and criticism helps with that! Hope to hear from all of you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Wow! So much amazing feedback and great reviews! I am so glad people are enjoying this this little brain child I've had tucked away for a while. Never fear - I am very busy but this story is stuck in my head so I will be doing my best to write often and update frequently! Now...to address a few comments!**

 **A lot of people were saying that Felicity should die in childbirth. As nice and neatly as that would wrap this problem up, you mercenaries you, that is not the direction I'm heading here. I relish in the heartache and struggle one must go through before reaching a proper HEA so Felicity will be around for a very long time!**

 **To whoever the guest who left the comment about proper Regency laws and mores, I wish you had left a name! I loved your comment and I really appreciated the notes and feedback! I am fully aware about rules of illegitimacy at the time and how that would work so never fear! I shall be adhering to those customs and social laws of the time. (Side note just for us nerdy Regency fans: For people as powerful/wealthy as Darcy, there were ways to legitimize bastard children however, as in this fic, Darcy already has a firstborn son so any illegitimate child would have almost as much right to inherit as a second/third/fourth son at the time after their parent's death (provided their elder siblings were living) and would, much in the same way Col. Fitzwilliam's parents had left him some money in their will, but he did not inherit the estate...that's pretty much how that would work. Unless an older sibling died childless which would then leave the line of succession of the estate up for debate and often times, when not entailed to a direct person, an illigitimate child that the father had claimed as his own had some rights to an inheritance over very distant relations who were not connected to the previous owner other than by distant ancestors. All of this in regards to this story, however, are a moot point as I don't plan on having Darcy die at any point and I hadn't yet considered children...though maybe I will later. I don't know. We'll see! - Sorry for this long monologue - I'm a history nerd and this was really exciting for me!)**

 **Amenstia: Your PM feature is off. Thanks! I appreciate that! I'm so glad you're enjoying it!**

 **And now to the part you are actually interested in...**

* * *

Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire's wife had just given birth to a daughter. Felicity Darcy refused to name her child Anne. (As she said to her husband, who wanted to name their child after a dead person they had never met?!) Rather spitefully, he suggested the name he truly wished for his daughter instead: Elizabeth. Felicity Darcy didn't hate it. One month later, in Pemberley's parish, Lily Elizabeth Darcy was christened. Her father cried. His neighbors thought it sweet he loved his daughter so much. His wife found it annoying. His sister knew that though he indeed loved his daughter immensely, that wasn't why he was crying and instantly wrote a letter to her cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam who traveled to Pemberley, reluctantly, as he was still quite angry at Darcy for making him stay at Rosings for so long. As Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire waited for his friend and cousin in the parlor after his name had been announced by Darcy's butler, he looked at his wife and sighed.

As Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourne in Hertfordshire listened to her favorite sister extol her beloved's virtues, she sighed. Yes, he was handsome, but not so much as his striking friend. Yes he was kind, but there was such a thing as too trusting. Yes, he had a sweat temperament, but in all honesty? Lizzy preferred someone with passion and heart. The kind of man who look into your eyes and make your very bones melt. The kind of man who was honorable and all that was good but who could make your heart beat so fast and so heard – could make your skin burn with anticipation, who could wrap you in his arms and make you feel things you had never felt before. Passion. Love. Dare she think it – lust. Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourne in Hertfordshire sighed. She wanted him. And she couldn't have him.

 _'Very well,'_ she thought to herself. ' _If I cannot have him, then I shall have no one. Only the purest love shall persuade me into matrimony. I have always said this. The only difference is that I now know what love really is._

"Oh Lizzy, truly. The only thing that could make me happier would be to see you this happy." Jane told her, gripping her hand and smiling naively as Jane was wont to do. _She has no idea what the world really is. It is cruel and wonderful all at once. It is passion and pain mixed together. It is the inability to separate the good from the bad. She had not a clue that her sweet, simple love is no more than that of a puppy next to what I have found and lost all in a single moment._

And that, dear readers, is the moment that Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourne in Hertfordshire realized that she was truly and unmistakably in love.

* * *

"You're welcome to come with us Lizzy. Perhaps a bit of fresh air is exactly what our girl needs." Aunt Gardiner offered with a smile. Part of me longed to go. The wedding planning was driving me to insanity. Of course I was happy for my sister, but one whose heart was recently broken could only listen to the joy and gaiety of others for so long before they simply fell over and died. The other part of me, the nervous part, knew that Aunt and Uncle Gardiner were going to the Lake District. Lambton. 5 miles from Fitzwill- Mr. Darcy's home. I couldn't put myself that close again. I would surely give into my desires if I allowed myself to see him again and then I would be ruined, my sister's prospects along with me. Then again, we would simply be a trio of travelers at a local inn. It wasn't as though someone would notify him we were there and my aunt and uncle had never met him so there would be no reason for them to seek him out. We would, in all likeliness, never see the gentleman.

"Are you quite sure, Aunt Gardiner? I would very much love to go but I wouldn't wish to be an imposition."

"Not at all dear girl!" My uncle called out jovially. "Come with us! Get away from the dramatics of young girls in love." I smiled but before I could respond, Kitty and Lydia burst through the door, speaking at a sprint.

"Mama, mama!" Lydia called out. "You'll never believed what happened!"

"No! I get to tell her!" Kitty said, pulling Lydia's braid. "I discovered it. It is my story to tell!"

"You'll just bore her! I'm the one who confronted Mary about it, I get to tell her!"

"That isn't true! I found out all the details, all you did was make Mary turn bright red! That accomplished nothing. It is my story, I get to tell!" Kitty looked very sure that she had won the argument but instead of replying or conceding, my youngest and silliest of sisters simply told the tale.

"Mary has a beau!" she called out. Mary burst into the kitchen.

"Lydia! I asked you not to say anything. I wished to speak to father before you told everyone." She hissed angrily.

"And whatever does your father have to do with it, girl?" My mother asked excitedly. "For I know now for certain he cares not what the future of his family is, the way he is so uninvolved with planning Jane's wedding. For all he cares the lot of us can be thrown out into the hedgerows. You must tell me all at once and I shall fix everything for you!"

"Mama, please. No." Mary begged but before another moment could pass Lydia was busy telling my mother all she knew.

"Mary and Kitty and I walked to Meryton and while Kitty and I were shopping Mary slipped away and once we'd realized she was gone and I simply had to go ask Mrs. Lawson from down the street if she'd happened to see Mary wandering about because Jimmy her son is home from school and he is studying to be a solicitor mama and he is ever so handsome so I thought we could start there and it was a good thing I had thought of that because indeed Mrs. Lawson _had_ seen Mary and told us she had gone into the church and so I sent Kitty off to find her while I had tea with Mrs. Lawson and her dreadfully dull daughter Eloise hoping that Jimmy might come home but unfortunately he and Mr. Lawson were going to be out all afternoon so when I couldn't bear to be in horrid Eloise's presence another moment I excused myself to assist Kitty in finding Mary and I ran off after them and when I found the pair of them Kitty was teasing Mary about the new Parson, mama. Can you believe it? Mary has gone and gotten the new reverend to fall in love with her and he wants to court her! He said so! Kitty heard it! He's ever so handsome and he is the son of a gentleman! The fourth son but does that really matter when one is a reverend of a parish the size of Meryton's? He must make a nice sum, don't you think, mama? Not to mention – he's very, incredibly handsome and I haven't the slightest idea what a man like that would see in our plain little Mary." Mary was bright red now and I rolled my eyes.

"Perhaps that she's kind, and devout, and beautiful to boot." I suggested, earning a small smile of gratitude from Mary.

"La, however silly you are Lizzy!" Lydia responded loudly, rolling her eyes. "How boring is it to be kind and devout and however pretty Mary is she certainly isn't the prettiest Bennet sister, not by a long shot!"

"Say what you will about your sister Lydia, but I don't see you bringing home a respectable beau!" Mama called out hurrying towards the kitchen. "Hill! You must come at once! We must plan a meal, five courses at least! We will have Miss Mary's beau to dinner this week and mark my words he shall offer for her within the month!" My three younger sisters began to bicker endlessly about who saw what and who knew what and who was the prettiest and if being pretty was the best thing a lady could be or not and I began to feel a headache as well as an aching longing for a person who would engage in intelligent conversation with me whilst on long walks. One who would perhaps hold my hand, or brush my hair out of my face, or hold me close, or kiss my neck…no. I simply had a headache and wished for the noise to stop.

"Far away from the dramatics of young girls, Lizzy, my girl." My uncle said quietly in my ear. "Think about it. Come with us."

* * *

Her eyes. The sight of them made my heart stop and I had to physically grip my chest for fear I would fall over dead straight away. I was dreaming. Hallucinating, perhaps. But it wasn't possible. She couldn't possibly be here, at Pemberley. She had disappeared as quickly as she had appeared before me, it was very possible I was mistaken. It was very possible I was chasing after a figment of my imagination. Again. I had done it before, seen her where she was not and chase after random women on the street only to find them turn around and have no notion of who I was nor any resemblance to her other than her height, or her hair color, or on one occasion, the curvature of her smile. But it was never her. She was never there.

I wasn't supposed to be here. I was supposed to be in London. But my wife had thrown a fit after I refused her from my bed once again and insisted she be reunited with the children that she _did_ have. (In her most spiteful tone.) We had turned around and were back for no more than half an hour when my Cousin Fitzwilliam was announced. It was minutes later that he had peered in shock over my shoulder and I had turned around and seen her eyes. I had stopped chasing her, for it never truly was her, but those eyes, what were the chances that someone else on this planet had eyes so bewitching, so beautiful, so tempting? It had to be her or some imagining of her in my mind. And I had to find out.

I found her on the terrace and I froze. She had reached a point where the only way out was passed me again. She had closed herself in.

"Miss Elizabeth." My voice was low and longing. Even I could hear the desire that dripped from each word.

"Mr. Darcy." She greeted me, curtsying. Hell. I had forgotten to bow. I did so immediately but once this occupation was fulfilled I had naught to do but stare at her. She looked about, clearly distraught. I longed to pull her into my arms and comfort her. I longed to kiss the sadness off her face. But I knew that the parlor window overlooked the terrace and for all I knew my wife and cousin (not to mention a handful of staff that could be anywhere) might be watching. Her voice lowered as she spoke. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean…they said the house was open for visitors and my aunt and uncle both wanted to see it so badly. They said you were out of town that you weren't home. I never would have intruded. Please believe me. I had no intention of your seeing me or bursting into your home. I swear you'll have no trouble from me with your family."

"Lizzy," I said softly. She closed her eyes, finding pleasure in the word. "I have been longing to see your face since the moment it had disappeared before me. She blinked and slowly lifted her gaze to mine. Those eyes. My chest physically hurt for a moment when I saw the sadness within.

"As have I." She whispered. "Perhaps in another reality, Mr. Darcy." She said forlornly. "In this one, however, I shall take my leave." She curtseyed and once again it was all I could do not to reach forward and pull her back, keep her from leaving.

"Miss Elizabeth, wait." Very slowly she turned back towards me, her eyes staring at a point decidedly 6 inches over my head.

"Yes, Mr. Darcy?"

"You are with your aunt and uncle?" I shot out, doing anything I could to prolong the conversation.

"Yes. My aunt is from Lambton, She makes this journey every year and they invited me along this year."

"So you are staying in town then?"

"Yes. At the Rose and Crown."

"Miss Elizabeth-"

"What do you want from me?" She asked, her voice small. "Do you not see how painful this is for me? I hadn't any intent upon seeing you and then my aunt and uncle insist on touring your home and so much of it reflects you perfectly but then there are places in it I think that surely are not to your taste and I am reminded at every turn of your _wife._ Then I stumble upon not only the man I swore I would never lay eyes on again but the woman who has ruined, perhaps forever my chance at happiness by merely existing. How am I to feel? I am distraught, sir, and I cannot bear this torment another moment. If I may, I will take my leave now."

"I wish to see you again." I begged. "My torment is the same but I cannot live knowing I shall never see you again."

"In what way would you contrive a meeting that would not harm my reputation, sir? It is all I have left. If I am to be allowed to stay at home and care for my sister's children, I must at the very least have my reputation."

"I never took you for the type to stay at home and care for the children of another. You seem much more the adventurer than that."

"I shall never marry. It is the only other option for me, sir. Now I beg you to allow me to take my leave."

"If I find a way. If I find a way to see you without harming your reputation would you see me?" I asked as I bowed over her hand.

"How on earth am I to refuse you anything, Fitzwilliam?" she breathed out. Tears were filling my eyes as she curtseyed in response and scurried off to find her aunt and uncle who were surely still on the grounds somewhere. I slowly returned to my house, finding myself in a private room. I picked up the nearest trinket and threw it at the wall with such force it shattered. Four more such casualties occurred before I could calm myself enough to face the world.

"Fitzwilliam, darling." The words were hallow and taunting coming from my wife. "What on earth made you run off like that? Who was that girl?" There was no accusation in her voice. If I knew her, that was likely because she cared not for my affection, only wishing for another child. She very likely couldn't care a whit if I was unfaithful. Not that I would ever be unfaithful. I was a Darcy, a man of honor. We did not do such things. Besides, I would not put my darling Lizzy in such a position, she deserved more than to be a man's dirty secret.

"That was Miss Elizabeth Bennet." I said, deciding something close to the truth would be best. A seed of an idea began sprouting in my head as I took in Georgie's expression at the name. (Though I didn't understand why, she looked profoundly curious and was now staring at me intently."

"Miss Elizabeth?" Col. Fitzwilliam asked excitedly. "My God, Darcy. Why didn't you say? I would have come to great her as well!"

"She is a friend. I made her acquaintance when I visited Bingley in Hertfordshire. Her father is a gentleman who is settled on an estate bordering Bingley's." I took a breath. "Indeed, Fitzwilliam and I met her again in Kent when we last went to see Aunt Katherine over Easter."

"Far longer than over Easter, dear." My wife said. "You were gone months."

"My aunt is very demanding." I replied. "Consider yourself lucky you were unable to make the trip this year." Felicity smiled softly but I found myself unable to return her happy expression.

"Her cousin and her best friend had been recently married and she was visiting them."

"And now she has run into you yet again! How fortuitous!"

"She is with her aunt and uncle. Her aunt grew up in Lambton and they make the trip every year."

"You seem to be a very attentive friend."

"I just recalled a question I had for her. I will be standing up for Bingley at his wedding, to her sister. Did I say? Her eldest sister is to marry Mr. Bingley. It is why we became friends. We both acted as chaperones for the couple as they courted and as a result were very much in each other's company."

"That does account for it then. You do not often make such friends wherever you go." My wife said. There was no malice in her words, only the truth. She did know me quite well after all.

"Indeed. I had a question regarding the church within which my friend shall be married. It is trifling. I have had an idea that she may be a good friend to Georgiana. Perhaps you might invite her and her family to dinner tonight, dear." I suggested to my wife, my tone making it very clear that this was not a simple suggestion. "I am certain you and Georgiana will find her company most stimulating."

"And I must admit, I am eager to see her again. While there is no Lady Catherine around for her to spar with, I am sure she will entertaining in any case." Fitzwilliam said. "You two should have seen it." He said, grinning at my wife and sister. "Aunt Catherine tried to put her in her place, as she does, and Miss Elizabeth rose to every challenge and held her own. Once, she even pointed out a logical fallacy within Aunt Catherine's words that made it seem as though the old girl had just gone and insulted herself!" He went on (rightly) extoling her virtues but I couldn't focus on their reactions. All I could think of now was the pain in those very fine eyes. I had caused it. And I would fix it. She would have everything; she would want for nothing. I would be sure of it. For all that I could give her, she deserved so much more.

* * *

"Invited for dinner?" I asked incredulously. "Mrs. Darcy has invited us for dinner?" It physically hurt my chest to say the words 'Mrs. Darcy' but there was no way around it.

"Yes. Mr. Darcy and his cousin thought you might be a good acquaintance for Mr. Darcy's sister, Miss Darcy to have and, Mrs. Darcy has submitted to their good judgement and wishes to have us all for dinner this evening." My heart was pounding furiously in my chest. He had done it. He had found a way to see me again without a single breach in propriety. I hadn't thought it possible. I couldn't tell if I was ecstatic or in abject terror – perhaps it was both. I would see him again. I would look upon the face of the man I loved and I would be able to speak with him, to hear his voice, to know his thoughts, to investigate deeper into his fine mind that made my heart sing. And I would speak with her. His wife. I would be civil and distant from her husband because they were married and I loved him. I would have to. There was no alternative. I would be kind to Miss Darcy (Lord knew she needed a friend, shy as she was. Not to mention the insecurities that led her to cease her playing of her favorite instrument, she needed a friend and I would not allow the tumultuous feelings I had surrounding her brother keep her from one.) and I would need to be gracious to Mrs. Darcy. A woman of such standing, condescending to asking a lowly country gentleman's daughter and her relations in trade to dinner was, though not in the least something to gossip about, certainly not an everyday occurrence.

It would be torture.

But so would staying away from him.

* * *

Dressed in my best gown, I sat in my Uncle's carriage as it bounced down the road towards Pemberley. Pemberley. It was perfection. The gardens and trails were manicured well but not overly stylish. That is not to say they were not stunning, but rather point out the fact that classic beauty won out over stylish trends. The house was decorated in a manner most unbefitting Fitzwilliam, but there were rooms we ventured in that took my breath away they were so filled with him. The art gallery, his study and the library, these were places the Lady of the House clearly had no interest in and as a result, did not care how he furnished them. They were thrilling, precisely how I would have liked to keep them had I – No. No Lizzy. You are not his wife. You will never be his wife. He is married. You shall not be the Mistress of Pemberley.

The carriage reached a halt and my uncle leapt out in order to be able to hand us down from the carriage. My aunt stepped out first and as I moved to exit I took the hand that was offered to me to assist me down. I froze in shock when I felt it. A spark plunged up my arm at the touch and I noticed a moment later that the skin was softer, younger than my uncles, the nails better manicured, and the man attached to it…Mr. Darcy.

"Miss Elizabeth." He greeted, bowing. "I am so pleased you and your family could join us for dinner. I am very eager to introduce you to my sister."

"I thank Mrs. Darcy for the invite. It was incredibly kind of her to condescend to invite relations she didn't yet have." Fitzwilliam ignored my statement and continued on.

"Your uncle seems to have his hands full with your aunt." He suggested at the pair who seemed nothing of the sort. "Perhaps you would allow me to escort you in." He held out his arm and I slowly shifted my hand from his (he still hadn't let go!) and into his arm.

"I thank you, Mr. Darcy. You are too kind."

"Not at all. Your family was very kind to me in Hertfordshire. It seems only fitting I repay the favor. And of course if I should have the additional benefit of your charming company, Miss Elizabeth, well then who could fault me?" We began walking and my aunt and uncle, in their impatience to see the grand house again walked a little more quickly, soon leaving us out of hearing range.

"You came." He said softly and full of warmth.

"I couldn't decide at first, which would be worse. The torment of this evening, or the torment of not seeing you as soon as possible." He sighed.

"I understand you precisely, Lizzy."

"Mr. Darcy, I am not entirely certain that you do. I shall have to spend the entire evening referring to _your wife_ as _Mrs. Darcy_. I shall have to honor and defer to her, a woman I have no argument with save for the fact that she married the man I love before I had even met him. You are a man. You could have an affair, take a mistress, fall in love, each with someone other than your wife and society would brush it off because of your sex and your finances. If anyone even suggested that I'd fallen in love with a married man, no matter how much proof there was that nothing untoward had occurred – and you and I both know no such evidence exists – I would be shamed, shunned, my sisters would have no hope of making good, respectable marriages. You may feel as you choose, all the while going home to your wife and the children she's bore you while I must suffer in agony on my own, not even able to confide in my own sister about the struggles I am facing. I am not entirely certain that you understand me at all." I stepped forward and relinquished my hold on his arm. But he was too quick. He caught my fingers in his held on to me.

"If you mean to suggest that my torment, my agony at the knowledge that I have forever destroyed my own happiness because I allowed another to convince me to marry too early is somehow lessoned by what society will think of me, by the fact that I must look at my wife, knowing she should be you, at my _children_ , resenting them because they should be yours, think again, madam. I have thought of little else than you and I have become an empty shell of a man knowing that I cannot have you. That you will never be mine, and I never yours."

"Lizzy?" My aunt's voice rang out allowing me moments to step into a more appropriate position before she stepped back around the corner, wondering where I'd gone off to. I hadn't noticed how close Fitzwilliam and I had become, our faces so close, another step forward and I would have felt his lips on mine. I shivered at the thought and listened as Fitzwilliam explained our delay.

"Forgive me, whence last we spoke, Miss Elizabeth mentioned her penchant for this particular artist, and I thought she would enjoy seeing one of his paintings first hand." He spoke quickly, gesturing to a piece on the wall. I looked at the painting in question and started.

"François Gérard?" I asked, almost shocked.

"The Baron was a friend of my mothers, he painted her shortly before her death." He said, gesturing to the painting. It is not one of his official pieces, of course, but you can clearly see his style in the brushwork." I smiled, in awe.

"Astounding." I nodded.

"Well don't tarry too long, Lizzy. Your Hostess is waiting to meet you." I could feel Fitzwilliam stiffen beside me and I knew I had done the same. I had to meet her. Mrs. Darcy.

* * *

She was charming. And beautiful. And superficial. And cared not a whit for poetry or philosophy, or even novels. In fact, she didn't like to read. (Too "taxing on the eyes" she had claimed.) She spent all of a quarter hour instructing Miss Darcy on how best to display her accomplishments to guests so that both men would be attentive to her and women envy her. This was demonstrated in the following dialogue.

"You see, Miss Darcy," (As far as I could tell, despite the marriage to her brother for more than five years, Miss Darcy had yet to give Mrs. Darcy leave to call her by her Christian name much to my rather un-Christian amusement.) "You mustn't display your primary talents first. Then when you move on, you give the impression that it is all, as they say, downhill from there. You must show your secondary and tertiary talents in the beginning, and then move on to those things you are more apt at. This gives the impression that, not only are you good a great many things, but that you are also humble and don't wish to show off too much. For example, Miss Darcy, I would begin by demonstrating my skills in art, showing some of my drawings, a chair I had designed, some cushions I had embroidered, and then I would move on to demonstrate my _prima artem,_ and play a song on the piano. You, on the other hand, should begin by showing your embroidery and designs and then go on to demonstrate your incredible talent of sketching." Miss Darcy blushed and I couldn't help myself. I found my lips moving in speech before I had even thought of what I was saying.

"I have heard from your brother and cousin that you are a very accomplished woman indeed, Miss Darcy." She thanked me politely and I continued. "In fact, I was led to believe that your _prima artem_ so to speak, was your delightful performance at the pianoforte. You must tell me," I asked warmly, teasing her. "Am I to call your guardians liars or have they spoken rightly of your musical abilities?"

"They are certainly most kind in their attentions and praise." Miss Darcy said, blushing. "But they accredit me too far. I used to play the pianoforte, but I haven't the ear for music Mrs. Darcy does. I find I prefer to listen to her than I do to play. Luckily for me she is gracious in accommodating my wishes in that department." Lies. All of it. I could tell that behind her mask of composure lay a girl, seething, wishing to touch the ivory keys again, but for some reason, unable.

"I understand you completely, Miss Darcy. I find that I too, struggle with playing and would much prefer the sound of others to that of my own. However I find such enjoyment in playing that I often sacrifice the joy of my ears for that of my fingers and play anyway. Perhaps one day Mrs. Darcy will not be able or wishing to perform and you shall play for the sincere enjoyment of the music and the knowledge that it was you who made it." The slight annoyance in Mrs. Darcy's eyes made it clear I had gone too far.

"If I may excuse myself." I said, rising to my feet and curtseying. I leaned to Miss Darcy. "Could you point me in the direction of a lavatory?" she smiled and gave me directions. I excused myself from the room and walked in the direction which she pointed. It wasn't too long before my journey was interrupted by a hand, which grasped my arm and pulled me into a room.

"Mr. Darcy?" I whispered, seeing his face.

"We're alone." He said simply, staring into my eyes as I was folded into his embrace.

"Fitzwilliam," I breathed. He moaned softly and leaned in, capturing my lips in his. I was more prepared this time. The last time I had kissed him I hadn't the slightest notion of what to do, but this time, my emotions heightened and my feelings for him having risen even further, I found that my body knew what to do without direction from me. His lips sucked ferociously on my lower lip and his fingers were gripping my hips so tightly I thought I may have bruises tomorrow. My hands found the lapels of his jacket and pulled him in impossibly close to me, I moaned in pleasure around his kiss and I felt him freeze. It was only for a second or two but when the pause was over and he was moving again, his ardor was increased tenfold. His lips now found my collar, and began sucking keenly. My skin was hot, I was sweating, I buzzed with excitement and my hands trembled as they clung to any and every part of him that I could reach. His hands snuck lower and lower until he was holding onto the curve of my rear, gripping me tightly in a way that made my stomach clench in happiness. His lips had slid lower, pulling my neckline down as he explored my chest. I had never been touched there. Not by anyone. We shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be letting him hold me _there_ or kiss my _breast_ but how could I tell him to stop when it felt like _that_?!

"Fitzwilliam," I breathed again. His face was buried in my now, mostly exposed chest as he licked and sucked and on occasion nipped at the skin there. His hands rubbed and squeezed my behind – a place I had never considered when thinking on what a man and a woman might do together…in private…but now that I felt what a simple touch there might do, I didn't know how I had missed it before. A place just below my stomach was roaring in approval at his ministrations and I began to feel something wet pooling between my legs. I was about to protest, to say we had gone too far, when he moaned my name into my chest.

"Lizzy." His word was part sigh of relief, part growl and I could feel my heartbeat stutter in my chest.

"More." I begged, abandoning all sense. His hand cradled my head as he slammed me into a wall, pressing me between the hard surface and his warm body. He brought his lips back to mine and furiously kissed me, not sparing a moment for breathing. That was all right with me. Who needed air when they had _him_ holding them in his arms? He softly bit my upper lip and instinctually I thrust my hips into his. I was surprised to feel something hart protruding from his pelvis. I knew, logically, what it was. My father had allowed me full rein in his library which meant I had access to some literature that for most young ladies, was banned. I knew that when aroused, a man's penis became stiff. But knowing it and feeling it are two quite different things. I reached around with my hand and cupped the member through his pants, curiously. He groaned and gripped my wrist, pulling me back.

"Lizzy. We can't...I won't ruin you. I shouldn't have…we shouldn't be…" I nodded.

"I know. This is a horrible idea, Fitzwilliam."

"I'm so sorry. You must know, I would never dishonor you in any way or-"

"Fitzwilliam. Did it seem like I was trying to stop you?" He closed his eyes and shook his head quickly, as though physically shaking the thoughts from his head.

"I cannot be in this state when I return to the gentlemen." He said, returning to the tone he used when he was being utterly logical and proper. They will know that I am aroused and…I will have to take care of this." He gestured slightly down to the thing I had felt between his legs. Now that he had stepped back I could see how obvious it was through his trousers. Curiosity (and lustful thinking that I certainly shouldn't have as a lady…) filled me and I couldn't help but ask.

"How exactly does one, take care of a problem like that?" I asked slowly, maintaining eye contact. My mouth was so dry, I licked my lips and his hand began to shake.

"Would you like to see?" he asked, his voice low. I shivered at the tone and glanced to the tent made from his trousers. I nodded slowly.

"Very much." He reached into his waistband and gripped at his manhood. He did not undo his trousers and the exact motions and nuances of what he was doing were hidden from site, but the general idea was obvious. Slowly at first, but quicker and quicker he began to stroke himself. He stared at me the entire time, his eyes wide and wild with an emotion I couldn't quite name. His hips began to rock along with his hand movements and he began to grunt softly. I was burning up. I could feel the flush all over my skin and my legs, clamped together in an attempt to stop the gush of fluids that was coming from my privates. What was that?! I would have to investigate later but for now, I simply squeezed my thighs together and held my hand back to keep from touching myself there. (Where that desire came from I didn't know, but I was suddenly very compelled to reach down between my legs and…)

"Lizzy." He moaned quietly. He was pumping his hand incredibly quickly now, his other hand gripping a table to his left so tightly his knuckles were white. He stared at me. As I had said. I had read a few banned books. I knew this wasn't it. I knew that a man would reach a point where he would spill his seed and then it was over. The thought of his seed, the very thing that could create a child within me, were he himself to be pumping his member, not in his hand but inside of _me_ … I couldn't help it. I moaned recklessly at the thought and licked my lips, searching for a hint of his taste, still clinging to my skin.

My sounds were enough to send him over and Fitzwilliam finished in his hand, panting and staring at me as though I had just hung the moon in the sky. We made no sound but I stepped forward and kissed his lips softly before stepping back into the hall and making my way to the parlor making up some excuse about getting lost in my head, all the while my heart beating so heavily I could have sworn I heard it echoing off the walls as my feet attempted to learn how to walk again, my legs heavy and woozy. I needed more. I needed…God but I didn't know. All I knew was that I was completely in love with Fitzwilliam Darcy. And I wanted him. I wanted to be his. I wanted to see him climax like that, hovering over me, deep inside of me. I wanted him to ruin me.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So as you can see...we're moving into smut territory. While this isn't going to be PWP (porn without plot for those of you not psychotically involved in fandom/fanfiction worlds) there are definitely going to be A LOT of lemons and smutty mcgoodness;) I am working on a few things and I have the plot sketched out. The smut part on the other hand...that's the sort of thing I like to create when I'm...in the mood. I also really like to make my readers happy so if there is something you want to see them do or anything like that, review or PM me and give me some good ideas! If they fit with the story I am more than happy to include them! I want to know what you think! Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Wow! I am blown away by all of your amazing feedback! I so appreciate hearing what you all have to say and I have been responding to each of you who have your PM feature on and leave your name! I really love hearing what you all have to say as well as your take on events as they progress and what you think may be coming up. I have gotten some really awesome requests for scenes of a smutular nature (I just invented a word!) and as the story progresses, you will be seeing several of them. If there is something that you want to see happen plot wise (other than Felicity dying off in the near future. I'm not killing her for a while if at all. But don't worry! HEA! Don't ask me how just trust;) Where was I? Oh yeah. If there is something you want to see plot wise or smut wise, PM me or leave it in the reviews! I aim to please and I love getting a little...inspiration.**

 **Haha - Now to the part you are actually here for...**

* * *

Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire was mortified. He had just…in front of…

How on earth was he supposed to face her again? Not only had he kissed her - something he had sworn to himself he wasn't to do again - but he had gotten so aroused that she'd been able to feel him through his trousers! At which point she then went ahead and…felt at him through his trousers. He blushed remembering how his body had reacted to her touch. He knew right from wrong. He had known that this had to stop. He had even gone ahead and stopped it in a moment he hadn't been entirely certain he was capable of stopping it.

Then she had asked him how he masturbated. And all bets went out the window. She had looked so sinfully innocent, so utterly curious, and - if he wasn't imagining things - rather aroused and lustful at the thought of his orgasm. Then again, did she even know what that was? Was she even aware of what just happened? Certainly she must understand the impropriety and ruining aspects of what had just occurred. She seemed flushed and excited as he finished and he couldn't get that image out of his mind. Then she'd gone and kissed his check and he'd had to spend the better part of ten minutes convincing his friend that he wasn't aroused again with varying degrees of success. Once he had, for the most part, put himself back together he returned to the gentleman's room. There wasn't a question of where he had been. He was the master of an estate, servants all the time came to him and pulled him away for pressing business. He rejoined the conversation but his mind was elsewhere.

In fact it was decidedly following around the petite brunette he had fallen in love with.

* * *

When we joined the ladies once more I was shocked to see how utterly normal she looked. Her dress which I had pulled down to give myself access to her bountiful bosom, was now perfectly in place, without even the suggestion that it had ever been askew. Her hair, which I was certain I had mussed when my fingers gripped it, was pinned perfectly in place. She was laughing with her aunt, smiling at my sister and sitting gracefully and poised on the lounge. I was halfway down the road to being convinced that this whole affair only happened in my imagination until I sat down on the sofa beside her and caught a glimpse of a quickly forming bruise that was mostly covered by the lace on her neckline. I couldn't help but straighten slight, proud. She bore my mark. My lips had laid claim to her.

"Darcy, old boy." I glanced at Richard as he interrupted my reverie. "I meant to ask at dinner. How is your daughter?" I frowned. He had seen her no more than half an hour before our guests had arrived. He was staring at me oddly and I had the slightest suspicion that he was not so much asking me if about Lily as he was reminding me of her.

"Lovely. I believe she looks rather as Georgiana did at that age."

"I thought much the same whence I last saw her. Though can you ever really tell who a child is to favor when they are that young? Perhaps in a few weeks we'll find she looks more like your wife."

"Hmmm." I replied noncommittally. "Tell me cousin, how long are you to grace us with your presence this time? When must you return to the army?" There was a tension between us that I didn't understand. It was clear he was upset with me for some reason, though what it could be I hadn't the slightest idea.

"In less than a fortnight I'm afraid. Just after Georgie's birthday I'll have to leave." I nodded.

"I am glad you are able to stay that long." He nodded, his eyes boring holes in my skull.

"As am I, cousin." I frowned. I didn't understand what was happening, but I certainly wasn't imagining it. He was angry at me.

"Would anyone like to play cards?" Felicity asked the room, happily ignorant of the angst filling the room. I noticed that Elizabeth was not so unaware of her surroundings. She looked back and forth between my cousin and me, frowning slightly. Her eyes asked the question and I shrugged my shoulders slightly to let her know I hadn't the faintest idea.

"Perhaps you might amuse us by playing for us on the pianoforte?" I asked her, very much so looking forward to the chance to dance with Lizzy. "We shall have our own, private ball." I said with a smile. Felicity stood and nodded her head, gracefully making her way to the instrument and sitting down. The first piece she played was a group dance and I made sure not to seem too eager as I turned to Lizzy to ask her to partner me. So much so, that someone had beaten me to it.

"Miss Elizabeth, may I have the honor?" My cousin asked bowing gallantly. I bit my tongue to keep the anger I felt off my face. Instead I turned to my sister and held out my hand.

"Georgie, care to dance? You must practice for all the balls you go to after you come out this year." I said with a smile. She nodded happily and took my hand.

* * *

He suggested a dance? What a fool. How was I supposed to act calm and collected with his hands holding mine? The very hands, I might add, that had no more than half an hour before been holding onto me as though I were a life raft and he were drowning. The very hands that had shortly after that been caressing his own…see? There I was already blushing and he hadn't so much as looked at me yet. Praise whatever higher powers that be, before Fitzwilliam could ask me, The Colonel held out his hand and winked in my direction.

"Miss Elizabeth, may I have the honor?" I nodded, happily and barely listened as Fitzwilliam asked his sister for the pleasure instead. I breathed a sigh of relief until I realized that this song was the sort where those dancing would trade partners at several moments. My aunt and uncle rose to join us, smiling as though nothing were horribly wrong in the world and the man who made my heart leap out of my chest and who made my skin itch with excitement were not married. (To a woman, I might add, who clearly made his sister miserable.)

"How are you enjoying Derbyshire, Miss Elizabeth?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked with a smile that was impossible not to return.

"It is one of the loveliest places I have ever been. I must admit, I rather hoped to despise it."

"Oh?" He asked. "Pray tell, Miss Elizabeth."

"My aunt spoke so highly of it the entire journey here I was fully committed to hate the place if only for the purpose of defending the honor of my own beloved Hertfordshire. Unfortunately the place is perfectly charming as are its occupants and I find breathtaking paths upon which to walk each and every day. It is altogether perfection and I am afraid that living at home will no longer present itself in my mind as my own personal Eden as it once did." Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed out loud and nodded.

"I see. So Derbyshire is to be the new Garden of Paradise, then?"

"Not at all!" I rebuffed him immediately. "It has merely opened my eyes to the fact that there will always be somewhere more charming, more wonderful waiting to be discovered."

"And who shall discover elisium for you, Miss Bennet? How shall you know when you have arrived?"

"Why on Earth should I allow someone else to go on all the adventures for me? I am perfectly capable of searching the world for Eden myself, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Perhaps that is how I shall occupy my time. My sisters shall all marry and grace the world with their children while I run wild through the forests in the New World and go on an expedition through Africa."

"My dear Miss Elizabeth, I find that I can see you doing just that."

"I am glad that you have faith in me, Colonel."

"Always, Miss Elizabeth." My hand was passed off to the man's cousin just at this moment and he held it delicately as his cousin twirled around to meet my aunt in the setup and my uncle took Miss Darcy's hand with an encouraging smile.

"You would take such journeys alone?" He asked, his voice low.

"You know my thoughts on marriage, Mr. Darcy."

"Who is to say you will not find love?"

"Who is to say that he will love me back?" I challenged. We danced on in silence as my uncle made Miss Darcy laugh and Colonel Fitzwilliam and my aunt chatted amiably. Just before he passed me off to my uncle, Fitzwilliam's head dipped lower and he whispered into my ear.

"How could anyone fail to fall in love with you, Lizzy?" My breath was tight as my Uncle Gardiner took my hand, winking at me.

"What a charming evening, Lizzy. Aren't you glad now I made you come with us to Derbyshire? I haven't the foggiest what possessed you to say no the first few times." Fitzwilliam, now dancing with my aunt, must have heard these words for his head turned slightly and he looked at me with one eyebrow raised, waiting for my reply. Was I glad? I would not trade my new experiences for the world but I knew it would be infinitely harder to say goodbye this time. The further in love I ventured, the harder it would be to leave.

"Yes." I replied simply. "Very glad."

* * *

Our guest had departed and my sister and wife were taking their leave of us. I bowed low and sighed in relief that I was finally alone. Mostly.

"Have you lost your damned mind, cousin?" Richard hissed at me after the ladies left.

"What do you mean?"

"You are married, Darcy. If you have grown bored with your wife you, go to a widow, or install a woman you can pay for her attentions in a townhouse. You most certainly do not go about making eyes at gentlemen's daughters like that! You most certainly do not stare at them so often that were we in public she would be halfway to ruination by now! And especially not to a woman like Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth?" I growled back. "Forgive me cousin, but I hadn't realized you two were so familiar she had given you leave to call her by her Christian name. I hadn't realized you had such a claim over her as to defend her honor from my staring. I was considering her as a companion for Georgiana. Nothing at all improper. As you said. I'm married."

"Yes. Married. And your wife is a perfectly respectable companion to your sister. Why you feel the need to hire someone who is not in the slightest looking for a job is beyond me!"

"Why do you say 'wife' in such a tone?" I asked, my fingers itching.

"Because I'm not always certain you remember that you have one, Darcy."

"That is ridiculous."

"I told you not to marry her. I told you to wait for love but ohhh no! Darcy has to go and do the proper thing. He has an estate? Better start a family! Aunt Catherine is being absurd, trying to claim a marriage contract? It's getting slightly annoying, her foisting my cousin on me. I had better make it stop by marrying someone immediately! Georgie's last companion was stealing from her? Oh no. We can't trust anyone. I had better invite a mercenary into my home and marry her so my sister can be forced to spend all her time with her instead."

"Richard that is quite enough."

"No. I'm not finished. Elizabeth is—"

"Once again I must ask. Has she given you leave to refer to her so familiarly?!" He stiffened.

"Forgive me. My tongue slipped."

"So that is what this is really about, then. You're in love with her."

"Don't be absurd."

"You wish to marry her and you're afraid that I will get in the way."

"I couldn't marry her. She has no fortune and I am a second son living on a military stipend. I could not provide for a woman like that, not without a generous dowry. Besides, even if that were not the case, how on earth would you get in the way? You're married, Darcy. I'm just trying to make sure that my friend, Miss Elizabeth does not get hurt, does not get put in the middle of some game." He looked me dead in the eyes. "She would be ruined, Darcy. Nothing would happen to you or your wife more than a little gossip. But she would be ruined. If you truly cared for her, you would not do anything to her in that regard. If you do not and this is naught more than a game for you, then you are not the man your father raised you to be." I sunk into an armchair.

"Why did I marry, Richard? I love her."

"Felicity?"

"Lizzy. I'm desperately in love with her. I fled into the night out of Hertfordshire to run from my feelings once. I swore then I would not ruin her. But then in Kent, the more I got to know her, the harder it was to say goodbye."

"And now?"

"And now I don't think I can live without her."

"Darcy," Richard began shaking his head.

"She is more important to me than the air I breathe or the food I eat. I shall die without her."

"You must stop this. If you truly love her, you will let her go."

* * *

 _Dearest Lizzy,_

 _You must come home at once. The most shocking news. Mary is engaged to be married! I disremember if you were still present when this all began, but if you were, you will recall Lydia gossiping horribly about how Mary was so frequently speaking with the lovely new Reverend in Meryton and how they often discussed the sermon's he would give after mass, or debate some passage in the bible and how very dull Lydia always thought it to be. It turned out that neither the Reverend nor my sister Mary thought it dull in the least for he has proposed and she has accepted him. They went to papa together to ask his permission and the two of them came out of his study, holding hands and beaming! Can you believe it? Our little Mary, holding hands with her betrothed before her wedding day! Since he is a Reverend, my mother was certain that there could be nothing untoward about the action and they held hands all afternoon until dinner is served! They are positively adorable and and I am thrilled for Mary._

 _But that is not all! My dearest sister you shall never guess and so I must tell you. Last night at dinner Kitty waited until Lydia had ceased lamenting the departure of her beloved militia (one more so than others, I might add. A young man quickly rising through the ranks named Denny. We shall discuss this development when I see you next!) and Kitty cleared her throat and asked if she might announce something. Papa was grinning and clearly knew what it was all about but the rest of us hadn't the slightest idea and you might imagine our surprise when silly little Kitty announces that she has entered a courtship with John Applegate! You recall John, of course. His older brother Simon had asked to court you once upon a time, dear Lizzy. Well Simon is off to school but John, Mr. Applegate's second son, has taken a liking to our dear Kitty. The boy is to be hired as Simon's Steward after the pair finish their schooling until the time as he sees fit to leave the position. Mr. Applegate is lucky enough to have set aside quite a bit of money and a small estate the family owns, not twenty miles away has been earmarked for John when he wished to move on from being his brother's Steward and feels confident enough to run his own estate. Kitty may find herself married to a gentleman with an income only slightly less than Papa's! That is if the estate retains its current value. When mama commented on the "inferiority" of the estate to her own, Papa was quick to jump to Kitty's defense and suggested that perhaps John will find a way to invest and increase his holdings. I must say, even when mama mentioned the slight difference, I noticed that it didn't bother Kitty one bit. She is determined to have John and nothing mama has said on the matter will sway her perpetual smile. It is a very good match for Kitty and I am very proud of her for how serious she has been taking it._

 _I spoke to papa about it later and he says that she has indeed been quite serious and has asked him to keep it from everyone until she was ready to tell because she didn't want Lydia to act childish around John and give him ideas about our family before he'd decided on courting her. She's been quite grown up about the whole affair! Our little Kitty! I must say that I am quite proud indeed!_

 _Mama is beside herself. Two daughters engaged and another on the brink of it. She's decided that Mary and I shall share a wedding and so we have been rushing about to prepare a proper trousseau in time. I think it will be managed and of course I am happy to share the day with Mary. Only now there is so much work to do I simply must have my favorite sister by my side! Mama has sent our Aunt a letter explaining much the same._

 _I cannot wait to hear of your adventures and tell you of my own! I cannot believe I will be married in two weeks Lizzy! Oh but if you were as happy as I, everything would be perfect!_

The letter went on for two more pages, describing both her happiness as well as the tiny details of home life. _Papa is taking delight in vexing mama, Mama has made me buy the most hideous orange gown, thankfully not terribly expensive,_ and the like. I smiled and I read it again as I walked through the gardens behind the inn we were staying at. I was glad Kitty was growing up. And Mary was engaged! How thrilling! Hopefully Lydia's infatuation was more than the flirtations she'd played with in the past and she would soon be settled too.

Were my sister's well settled, I wouldn't feel so horribly guilty for what I had done. I could ruin them all. It must stop. I must stop.

"Lizzy." The man who filled my every thought stepped out of a path behind me.

"Fitzwilliam." I said, startled. "What are you doing here?"

"I often take walks in public gardens near my home in the evening. I enjoy my own paths and trails but there is nothing like walking in a place for the first time." I pursed my lips. So he was looking for me then.

"It is good I have run into you." I said briskly. He smiled and stepped forward.

"Yes?" He prodded, reaching his hand out to presumably caress my check. I stepped to the side under the guise of more closely admiring a flower.

"Indeed. I am able to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" His voice was harsh now. "Lizzy,"

"My sister Mary is engaged. I am required at home to help with the preparations. She is to be married with my sister Jane."

"I thought, seeing as we were both to return to Hertfordshire for Miss Bennet and Mr. Bingley's wedding that I might escort you and your family."

"That is very kind but as you can tell, we are all to leave presently. My uncle may escort us well enough."

"Indeed, I only thought-"

"Fitzwilliam!" I cried out. "Please, I beg you. Do not make this harder than it must be."

"Lizzy," He begged.

"No. It isn't just me, I have to worry about. My actions could ruin my sisters' prospects. They are all on the very verge of being happy, of being settled. What if someone were to find out about us? All of that could be ripped away from them! My father's estate is entailed. We would no longer have our reputations and would not be able to be hired as ladies companions. We would not have enough money or capital to survive. My uncle may take us in but not all of us and even then, he would be ruined by association. I could not subject my relations to that. I am in love with a man who could destroy my family merely by loving me back. I cannot do this any longer, Fitzwilliam."

"Do not call me that." I froze, taken aback. He had angrily spit the words and I was suddenly terrified. Had I mistaken his character? Had he planned to take my virtue and leave me be? Was I wrong about his regard for me? I shivered. Now he was taking back his permission to call him by his name. Perhaps I had gone and ruined myself anyway.

"Not after…When you say Fitzwilliam, all I can think about is my cousin." He explained quietly. "I cannot bear to think of you saying these things to another man, to him. Lizzy, please."

"What shall I call you then?" I asked.

"Darcy. Fitz. William. Whichever you prefer, but I cannot bear to think of you with another, Lizzy."

"Darcy." I interrupted him. "I have told you. There won't be another. How could there be? There can only be you." He moved to pull me close to him but I had to shut my eyes and step back. This was wrong. This was horribly, horribly wrong. He was married. It was immoral and wrong and...his fingers were reaching out to me, to take my hand.

"Please." I begged with a whisper. "I cannot."

"Then I shall not ask if of you." His voice was broken, torn with distress. I nodded, thanking him. "When do you leave?" He asked.

"First light tomorrow."

"May I call on you before you-"

"No." I said immediately. "No, I don't think I could bear that." I stared stubbornly at the ground, knowing if I caught another glimpse at his distraught face I would rush into his arms and kiss his smile back in place.

"Very well. Until we meet again, Miss Elizabeth."

"Until we meet again, Mr. Darcy."

It wasn't until I laid down on my pillow that night that I realized, 'until we met again' was only two weeks away. Whatever was I to do then?!

* * *

 **Weeelllll? Did you like it? No smut I know...it's a bit slow to start. But as soon as the first time for them comes around, they're going to want to be jumping each other's bones all the time and this fic will become smut Heaven! Let me know what you think!**

 **xoxo - DevilishlyTempting**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: I'm a horrible human being. I know I am. Life kind of got in the way of my writing for myself and I haven't been able to work on this in AGES. I will be going back to school soon and as contradictory as this sounds, I will have OODLES more time then and then I shall write for all you amazing people. But I've made you wait long enough: here is the next installment!**

* * *

CHAPTER 4

As Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourne in Hertfordshire lay in her bed that night, she found that she couldn't fall asleep. She was exhausted, and yet sleep simply would not come to her. On one hand she was incredibly happy for her sisters and thrilled she would soon be able to see them and revel in their happiness with them. On the other she would be leaving her darling Fitzwilliam. It broke her heart. Though whether she was more anxious about leaving him or seeing him again in two weeks' time she could not say.

Elizabeth thought back to the past week. When she had arrived she had convinced herself that she would never be laying eyes on Fitzwilliam Darcy again and that she should (and would!) forget him soon enough. Then she saw him. Forgetting him wasn't really an option anymore.

Neither was forgetting…that. She had watched him pleasure himself and had mortified to realize that even watching him reach his peak, had given her great pleasure as well. She discovered that as of late, when she spent any great deal of time around Fitzwilliam she had a certain wetness was collected in her underthings. She'd read her father's books. It was from arousal. Her body was begging her to…with him. Preparing even. After she had watched him touching himself, the wetness had increased tenfold and her own private parts had been left tingling in anticipation.

Sweet Lord, even now as she thought of it, remembered it, she was growing excited!

Remembering how his hand dipped below his waistline and began to stroke himself, remembering the way he sped up and the way it made his eyes roll into the back of his head, her own hand began to migrate south as she wondered what it had felt like for him. She moaned in frustration and shut her eyes, picturing just what she had seen the other day. Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourne in Hertfordshire bit her lip and rolled onto her back, thanking her lucky stars that she was alone in this room and was not sharing space with another.

* * *

The pressure mounting just below my stomach was growing…more than noticeable. The lips of my womanhood were warm and tingling and my hand found itself wandering beneath my shift to explore this new sensation. Experimentally, I ran my index finger across the slit there and shivered. Petting myself more thoroughly now, my other hand joined its partner there and began feeling around. I was aware what I looked like, down there, but not necessarily familiar. It was certainly time to change that. A finger slipped into my hole and my insides clenched happily around it. I moaned at the sensation and my other hand began stroking faster. I hit a part that made my entire body tense and pull forward. I froze. What was that? What on earth was that? A tiny bead rolled between my fingers as I tested the space again. It felt like heaven. I concentrated my ministrations on that one part as the finger I had inside me was joined by a second. The stretching sensation was uncomfortable at first but was also not altogether unpleasant. In fact, despite the slight pain of stretching, I found myself wishing that sensation to increase. I found myself longing to be filled. The more I got used to it, the more I began to enjoy the feeling. Remembering how Darcy's hand had moved quicker and quicker over himself I began to experiment with the same motions. Quicker and quicker my fingers rubbed back and forth over that little place at the mound at my center. A noise escaped me – an incredibly wanton noise which sprang forth from the back of my throat, strangled and desperate as the feeling overtook me. Deep in the pit of my stomach something was clenching happily, something was growing warm and spreading. My folds were now drenched with something thicker and more slippery than sweat and my fingers were able to move quickly over the tiny bead I had discovered. The two fingers that were inside me began moving slightly, exploring the cavity in which they were contained. I felt ridges upon the walls of my inside, and I traced over the shapes and lines within me. Who knew such paradise was awaiting within ourselves? There was a bump further back, and I found a slight shock go through me when I touched it. That too, was quite pleasant. I curled my fingers, pressing hard upon that spot, all this while continuing petting myself. The shock of the sensation that provided was too much. It was as though my mind was being wiped blank, I could think of nothing else but the rush of feeling up and down my skin. My toes curled impossibly tight and the muscles up and down my legs, into my abdomen clenched as hard as they could, my ridged insides clenching spastically around my fingers. When the spasms were finished rolling hot waves through my body, I lay back upon my pillow, exhausted. Pulling my fingers out, a whitish thick liquid, not unlike glue was dripping off of them and out of my womanhood. Curiously, I pulled my hand to my face to inspect it. Tentatively, I tasted the liquid and found it a mixture of sour and salt. It wasn't a familiar taste. It wasn't something that was even particularly delectable, and yet I found my body craving it. I licked off my fingers, one by one, swallowing the proof of my wantonness. I reached for the handkerchief on my nightstand and began to clean myself up, a deep flush rising to my cheeks as I realized what I had just done.

It was horribly wanton.

It was the sort of thing that could ruin a gentlewoman.

It was dreadful and positively sinful.

But for the life of me, I couldn't bring myself to feel anything but immense joy.

* * *

The two weeks between my last seeing my beloved and this moment, as the carriage pulled into Hertfordshire, stretched on as though they were a lifetime. And yet now that the moment was here, how could I help but react nervously, and wish to put it off just a bit longer. My wife by my side, I knew how painful this would be for her. Elizabeth, that is, not Felicity. I really don't think Felicity could care less if I told her outright that I wished to have an affair. If wasn't that she was cold or heartless, just not anymore in love with me than I was for her. She secured herself a safe place in society and in her life. She would be financially sound, well looked after, and well respected. A woman could do a lot worse for herself in today's day and age.

"Fitzwilliam." She said, breaking the monotony of my thoughts. "This is where Miss Elizabeth Bennet hails from, correct?" I stiffened.

"Yes. As I have said repeatedly, Bingley is marrying her sister."

"Yes, of course, dear. I'm not dim. I simply wished to ascertain if this was her home or if they were marrying in a different parish."

"It is her home."

"Very good. Then we shall see much of her in our time here?"

"I expect so."

"Wonderful. Then perhaps you will lose that perpetual frown you wear for the next fortnight."

"I haven't the slightest idea what you mean." I informed her, meaning quite the opposite.

"You've grown attached to her, have you not? Were she not a gentleman's daughter perhaps you could even have an affair, but as it is, she is not to be trifled with. And it is not as though you can marry her given that you're already married." I listened in abject horror. What was she about to do? Was she going to threaten Lizzy? Was she going to try to ruin her? "Fitzwilliam there's nothing we can do about that now. For better or for worse, you married me and I married you. It is done. And it cannot be undone. So unless you plan to have the mother of your children murdered, you must know that there is no way for you to have her."

"Felicity,"

"No, no. I'm not trying to threaten you, or lord my knowledge of your heart over you. I simply wish for us to be frank with one another. You are quite attached to her. Given the look on your face just now, I would hazard a guess that perhaps you even love her. Do not worry for my feelings, Fitzwilliam. I think you know me well enough to know that while I love you as my husband I am not, as they say, in love with you." She took a breath. "You are a good man. And I know that you do not wish to dishonor your wife. But you are miserable. And living with a miserable man is making me miserable. And do not think that the children won't notice their father's sadness soon enough. It won't do. We can find you a mistress, if you like. Someone to take your mind off of her, off of me. Someone who looks like her or looks abjectly different from her, whichever would help you, Fitzwilliam. You shan't have an argument from me. Perhaps in a few years I should like another heir but then again perhaps not. Two is quite a handful for now." She smiled softly. "What should you like to do, Fitzwilliam?"

"Madam," I began, doing my best not to hiss the words. "What you suggest is highly dishonorable. I am not the sort of man who-"

"I know. But in order to dishonor you wife, she must feel dishonored, must she not? In order to dishonor you wife, she must feel as though you have broken your vows. You vowed to be faithful to me. Well faithfully come home, provide for your children, and treat me with kindness. That is all I ask, my dear." My stormy face glared at her a moment, unsure of how she could even suggest- "Unless it is not I that you feel you would be dishonoring." She sighed. "Does she love you back?"

"What sort of game are you playing, Felicity?"

"The kind that gives me a peaceful house and a happy family." She snapped back. "If she does love you back as violently as you seem to care for her, then perhaps she would consider an arrangement."

"She would never-"

"Once her sisters are all well settled, if she truly loved you, I don't see why she wouldn't enter into at the very least some sort of arrangement where the two of you spoke frequently, or at the very least, wrote letters back and forth. Perhaps she would be willing to do more, but if not, at the very least, you should be able to communicate with one another."

"Felicity." The words came out in a growl though I wasn't quite sure why I was so angry. It wasn't as though she were being cruel or trying to harm Lizzy. I simply did not wish to speak about this…with _her_. And yet she was trying to provide for me to speak to Lizzy. She was trying to give me the friend I needed when I couldn't take her as my wife.

"Don't speak to me with that tone! I am doing my best to accommodate your needs. At least grant me the respect I deserve as your wife and stop speaking to me as though I am your dog and I've just eaten your best shoes. For heaven's sake, Fitzwilliam. I will be the mule who carries messages between the two of you. I shall hire her as my companion out of my pin money, if you wish it. I shall turn a blind eye and avert the attention of everyone around so that you might take her into your bed if that is what the two of you desire. All I ask in return is that you treat me and my children with respect and you care for us as you promised."

"Felicity."

"What?!"

"Thank you. But I doubt…I doubt she would be interested."

"Then we shall have to come up with a plan to make her fall in love with you. Take no offense in what I say, dear, but given the fact that you're already married to a women whose born you two children, one of them a male heir that you can hardly claim illegitimate at this point, and you cannot offer her reputation any sort of real protection against her reputation nor does she have any hopes of marrying you until I die, getting her to take you on may be the most impossible task of the century."

"Don't I know it?"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm baaaaaaack...**

 **Yeah. It's been 2000 years. But I've been going through a lot with my family and my life and I haven't had a lot of time for 'me'. I am back with this fic with renewed vigor and I PROMISE regular updates! I will not abandon you all anymore! I am so so so so sorry for leaving this last time. I love you guys and hope that this makes up for it! xoxo - DT**

* * *

 **Elizabeth Bennet**

Had I lost my mind? Oh Lord, I knew I was going to hell but please do not allow me to drag my sisters down with me! I prayed frequently, quickly, and repetitively. Sometime between the passionate kissing and over our clothing groping that had occurred at Jane and Mary's wedding, and the Kitty's wedding, I had agreed to meet _Mrs._ Darcy for a private tea in her current, temporary residence at Netherfield. My sister was hosting the adult Darcys for the weeks leading to Kitty's wedding, and for some reason the Darcys had been invited to the affair. Actually, I knew the reason. Kitty and Mrs. Darcy had met at Jane and Mary's wedding and the two had become friends. Kitty, unaware of the pain she was unintentionally causing me, had invited the Darcys and the two had graciously accepted. The wedding was in two days, and now, I was on my way to meet with Mrs. Darcy, certain that our secret was out and that I was about to ruin my sisters. Days before her happiness, I may take away everything from Kitty, and ruin Lydia before she even really had a chance to have her fun. I was an awful sister. I was an awful person. I was going to hell and please, please, _please_ God do not let me drag my sisters down too!

I was admitted to Netherfield without question, that was what happened when I visited my most beloved sister so often, and taken into the yellow room for tea. When I stepped inside, I noticed the lack of servants, the lack of anyone, really, beyond Mrs. Darcy. She rose instantly as I made my curtsy to her and smiled, motioning for me to take a seat. After the tea had been served and pleasantries made, she took a deep breath and looked deeply at me.

"Miss Bennet, I hope you will excuse my forwardness in this conversation but there is a matter of great delicacy that must be discussed and I find that nuances and allusions will not properly hash out the problem at hand." My heart pounded in my chest so loudly I was certain she would hear it. "I hope you will notice that we are perfectly alone, and in a room that once housed a practice pianoforte - the room was designed to dampen the sounds within so that those outside its walls would be unable to hear what was happening within." I nodded slowly.

"I was unaware of the architectural aspect, though our solidarity did strike me immediately."

"Indeed. I don't wish you to fear, my dear girl. I can see the terror on your face and you've gone quite pale. Please. Breathe as normally as you can, I am not hear to cause you harm." What other purpose could be served?

"My husband has fallen in love with you." Had I been sipping my tea I would have choked then and there and perhaps mercilessly fallen dead. "Again I must reinforce that I have no wish to harm you, merely to ascertain your affections onto him. We married for convenience. We were not a perfect match, but we were a good one, and I must admit that I never really believed in love. My father told me I would grow to love my husband and indeed I have, but not in the way a wife is meant to love her husband. I care for him. I wish his happiness. But mainly, I wish that the father of my children will be good to them and provide for us."

"Mrs. Darcy-" I managed to choke out, my breath coming out in heavy, hurried pants now. "I don't know what to-"

"My dear, please. Drink some tea, take a deep breath. I will say it again, I have no wish to ruin you or extort anything from you with this knowledge. I can see in your face at the mention of his name that your feelings are far from passive. You love him too and I endeavor to assist you both if that is what you desire."

"What?" I asked, not understanding what she could possibly mean.

"I have no interest to be with my husband in the way man and wife generally are. I have borne him two children and that is enough for me. I do wish that he would quit this insufferable mood he's been in since falling for you and being unable to have you. Miss Bennet my dear friend Kitty is soon to be married, leaving you with only one unwed sister. It is my understanding that Mr. and Mrs. Bingley intend to provide dowries to you both. I propose the following. Allow the monies that should have gone to you to be passed on to double Miss Lydia's dowry. Then take up employment to provide for your own."

"Employment?"

"We have now arrived at the heart of the matter. I wish to take you on as my companion."

"You wish what?!"

"I would like you to be my companion. You will be paid a companion's salary and given the clothing allowance and what have you to outfit you properly to be the companion of a woman of my station. It would then be of no consequence of anyone that you spend all of your time in the home of Mr. Darcy, and a great deal of time interacting with him. In addition, any apparent closeness between the two of you could instantly be written off as familiarity given to people of the same rank who are part of the same household. You would then be able to truly be with Fitzwilliam."

"Mrs. Darcy - forgive me, but what you suggest-"

"I am suggesting that you become my husband's mistress and I am suggesting that I hold the perfect cover for it."

"Mrs. Darcy-"

"I am not asking for an immediate answer. I would like to give you time to think. It is a lot to ask. But I do ask it for it would bring me the immense joy of seeing a person that I care about happy and it would give me the opportunity to have a true confidant in you. There are few people of whom I can tell my deepest secrets, but having one of your own, would allow me to feel safe with you. I don't mean that as a threat my dear! Oh no - that sounded... I would never divulge this secret. I simply meant... I am uncomfortable sometimes, around others, and knowing you this well would allow me a greater sense of comfort." She took a deep breath and smiled at me. "Please Miss Elizabeth, think of it. You could help provide for your younger sister and you would be able to be with the man you loved more than any other recourse I've been able to think of. I swear to you that I shall be nothing but supportive and helpful to you."

"Mrs. Darcy, I cannot do what you ask! To be someone's mistress? To do so would..." I trailed off, unable to come up with the words.

"Promise me you'll think on it. I have yet to offer this very specific set of actions to my husband as an option though when I outlined my ability to help he seemed to be thinking single-mindedly of you. He desires to have you in anyway he can and I am sworn to assist him. Please, Miss Elizabeth, think on it." It was silent for a long time hence as I struggled to come up with the words sufficient to express myself here. I finally settled on two that seemed to do the best job, if not the perfect one.

"I promise."

* * *

As I made my way out of the church after Kitty's wedding, thoughts of the happy couple and my lovely sister should have been filling my mind. Unfortunately, I wasn't quite as good a person as that. Instead, the conversation I'd had with Felicity replayed itself over and over and over again, fixating on different parts each reiteration. She had asked me to become her husband's mistress. To, publicly, become her companion, a handsomely paid position which would also give me monies for a wardrobe, meaning all the money I had no in dowry form or otherwise, could go to making sure that my sister Lydia would be well looked after. She had provided me assurances that my secret would be safe, that my reputation would be well looked after. She didn't care that her husband wanted another. She encouraged it. She had secrets of her own she would divulge to me. This struck me the most. It certainly wasn't the most outrageous part of what she had spoken to me (she'd asked me to be her husband's mistress...that would definitely qualify as the most obscene thing she'd said) but it struck me none the less. What secrets would she have that she could not share with another - a close friend of hers? The depth of what she had mentioned suggested that any secret of hers would rival my own. That was certainly something to be curious about.

Before my mind could elaborate on its ideas any further, I ran into a large body. Glancing up, my heartbeat immediately quickened.

"Mr. Darcy."

"Miss Bennet." He bowed properly. Glancing around furtively, he made sure we were being paid no mind. He gestured to a room behind him, a storage room for the sheet music of the church and I ducked in. He locked the door behind us and turned to me.

"Lizzy, I had no idea that Felicity would ask you such a thing. I apologize. To assume that of you..." he trailed off.

"The assumption itself was not entirely incorrect though, was it sir?"

"In that?"

"In that I am in love with you and I would do nearly anything to be with you." He inhaled sharply.

"My darling Lizzy, you must know that I feel as you do. I love you most ardently. More than I even knew was possible." At some point during this exchange, we had moved towards each other, ignorant of our bodies motions, as though an invisible force drew us together. I was in his arms now, my hands resting on his chest.

"I am not the sort of man who deserves you to ask this of you, but I find that I cannot stop myself. Lizzy, will you do as she suggested? Will you become my Mistress?" I had been searching for that very answer for several days now, unsure of what it would be even until this moment now, but it was blindingly clear as I felt his heart beat against mine, his hands holding me tightly to him.

"Yes."

* * *

 **A/N: First person to guess Felicity's secret (either in Review or PM form) gets to pick a prize. (Either ask me any question and I have to answer, or gets to pick out a scenario/plot point that will get written in later. If you can think of a different prize, you can go for that too!)**

 **P.S. There's gonna be some pretty intense smut in pretty much every chapter after this. If you have any ideas or scenarios you want to offer, or suggest, feel free to PM or review. I love reviews! (positive or negative) they really help me hone my skills as a writer! xoxo - DT**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Wow! So much feedback! I am constantly blown away by all of you! You are the best! Because I'm posting this within a week of my last update, I do want to encourage all of you to go back and make sure you read chapter 5!** **I have through chapter 9 written so post editing, it is pretty likely that I will be updating frequently so if you aren't like me and on here checking on my follows on the daily (thank you FF Net app!) Be sure you are checking the previous chapter(s) to be sure you've read them!**

 **I will say that a few of you did guess Felicity's secret, and the rest of you will find out what it is in this chapter! Hopefully it will...you know what? Actually no, I'm not going to say any more about that. Just read it:) (And review!)**

 **Oh. Also a lot of you were hoping for a second guess in this chapter...but you find out in this chapter what the secret is so that would be a tad bit pointless. If you guys are enjoying the guessing or would like other games included in my postings, let me know! I'll be sure to cook up a few things:)**

 **Also, Also - and this is pretty important - a few of you are pretty upset with me that I've relagated our dear Lizzy to the status of Mistress and have taken it upon yourselves to remind me the horrible things that women had to deal with in this time period. I am totally with you - it was AWFUL! - and I know that I too would probably be a bit sad to read a story about a woman who has to face any of those punishments/consequences! SO - please don't worry! I am not planning on writing them being caught or Lizzy being disgraced! This is a fun story, I promise! As far as Lizzy is concerned, the angstyness is mainly over! I also do want to say for those who are REALLY upset about Lizzy being a mistress, that maybe this story isn't for you. I will be so sad to see you go but there is so much fanfic content that is right up your ally, and TBH, I concocted this with a half idea of how awful it would be if Darcy had already married, and a desire to write a lot of smut. Like...A LOT. That is gonna be the main focus from here on out and if you aren't into that, I'd suggest you go on to see what your other fav. fics are up to.**

 **I love you all! Thanks so much for messaging me and reviewing! (Us writers get lonely with only our fictional characters for company - it's good hear from real humans!) Sorry for the long Author's NOte, but I did just write you 3500+ words in the chapter and post after only three days so...I think we're even? Anyway - hugs and wishes, DT**

* * *

 **Elizabeth Bennet**

My mother was nothing less than confused at my sudden declaration that I had taken a position as a gentlewoman's companion. In the beginning, she was against it, considering it the mark of a spinster to take employment. That was until at the wedding breakfast, Mrs. Darcy read her like a book, saw her apprehension, and instantly smoothed it over with talk of my being her particular friend, and her wanting to both provide for me, for the eventuality of my certain marriage. I even heard her mention quietly that it was her intention to make me a staple, a regular and fixed part of her social group, and then use my position to put me in the way of gentlemen of that caliber. My mother ceased her complaints instantly after that. I didn't dare look at Fitzwilliam throughout the morning. My nerves were flighting enough without that addition. Instead, I graciously accepted my father's congratulations and blessing, and my sister Lydia's abundant thank yous that I'd added to her dowry. The red coats had left the area, but I was certain that she'd find another young man who'd catch her eye. Between father's small contribution, and the doubled amount of Mr. Bingley's generosity, she was no worth nearly 4000 pounds upon marriage. She was a good match and could chose where she wished. I had pulled her aside and warned her that she may now be prey to fortune hunters. The importance of such an occurrence excited her greatly and she swore up and down that it was _her_ fortune and no man would swindle her out of it. I suggested that if she were to receive a gentleman's attention, she might ask her brothers in law and her papa to investigate on the content of their character. She agreed instantly, thrilled by the prospect of having so many people care about her so much. She was young and mayhaps foolish, but she would learn and grow, and with his other daughters out of the house, papa would have no choice but to watch her closely and be sure she didn't get into too much trouble. After wishing Kitty and her new husband well, Mrs. Darcy suggested that I do the same and become ready to depart. We would go to their London home immediately, and then after taking in some of the sights of the town and settling me into my role as her companion with a full ladies wardrobe, we would depart for Pemberley. They were being far more than generous, but upon my protestations, Felicity said this was normal for most companions, and that even if it were not, I was providing her a service worth far, far more. She saw my discomfort at that and confidently, shook her head and took my hand.

"We are in for many years together. We shall be in each others company often and we shall be far more than intimately acquainted with one another. I intend to be as close to you as any one of your sisters are, and we shall be, as I told your mother particular friends. I wish us to be close, and in private, censored speech will simply not do." After that, I made an effort to be more candid and less coy about even those things which had nothing to do with our particular situation. We were to be close. We were to be in a position very few ever found themselves in. It wouldn't do to be hiding things from one another.

After Mrs. Darcy, Mr. Darcy, and I were loaded into the carriage, we made an effort to remain silent on any subject of a delicate nature for at least a mile or two. It would do no one any good to be overheard. It was Felicity who made first mention of our plan.

"We seem to have left behind those who may attempt to overhear the speakings inside of our carriage. Let us be frank. I wish to discuss any rules and norms we shall have as we enter this arrangement." Mr. Darcy glanced away, swallowing hard, appearing very uncomfortable. "First and foremost, Miss Bennet, you must call me Felicity. Formality will not do."

"Indeed." I surmised. "And you shall call me Elizabeth."

"Very good. The awkwardness is out of the way then."

"That was what was awkward about this?" Mr. Darcy asked incredulously.

"Hush dear, the ladies are talking." Felicity cut him off with a wink and a smile towards me. "Elizabeth as I've said before, we are to be particular friends, I shall stand for nothing less. I want you to be comfortable confiding in me and in an effort to make that possible, I shall confide in you. I should like to accompany you to your fittings at the modiste, it would be well for us to begin growing in comfort with one another and in addition, I will be able to tell you what you shall need to wear as my companion." I nodded.

"I should like to get to know you better, Felicity."

"Very good! Now I think it is on all of our minds, it will do none of us any good if this gets out, so in public, we are to be the epitome of grace, elegance, and propriety."

"You don't need to tell us that." Fitzwilliam interjected.

"Likely not, but it bears repeating." She returned. "In private, the two of you are welcome to do whatever you like, alone, or with me present. Though I must admit I'd prefer not to be in the room as you actually-"

"Felicity!" Fitzwilliam cut her off. She smiled mischievously. I started at that. I never took her for the sort to have a mischievous side.

"Good. We are all in understanding. As it stands, when it is just the three of us, please do not stand on ceremony or worry about hurting me. As I've said, I am in no way in love with you Fitzwilliam, my feelings will not even be scratched. It would please me to see you both happy." She took a breath and then continued. "The two of you of course shall work out what is between you on your own, I understand it is a private conversation and one I do not need to be a part of. Of course Georgiana and the children should not know, but as Elizabeth will be a part of their lives for a long time, she should certainly be allowed any amount of contact she would like with them. I know that Georgiana adores you and I'm certain that should you wish to spend time with the children, they would as well."

"I..." I trailed off, unsure of how to respond. "Georgiana is a very dear girl and I should very much like to be in her company often if that is alright with you Fitzwilliam."

"I should prefer it." He replied warmly.

"I..." again, I lost the nerve to finish that part of the thought.

"Perhaps you would like to settle into your role before deciding how much contact to have with Victor and Lily later on." I nodded immediately.

"Indeed that seems the best course of action."

"Very good." She paused and looked around. "Elizabeth, would you like to switch seats with me? You may sit beside Fitzwilliam then and I might be able to stretch out and rest." After a pause and a missed heartbeat of excitement, I nodded and we moved to exchange places. Felicity closed her eyes and nestled into her seat. As soon as her eyes were shut, Fitzwilliam wove his fingers into mine and brought my hand to his lips for a kiss. It took all of five minutes before my feelings allowed me to curl into his side, my head resting on his shoulder, his arm wrapped tightly around me. With that scent that was inexplicably Fitzwilliam wrapping around me, I took lilted off to sleep.

* * *

 **Fitzwilliam Darcy**

I stared down at the girl in my arms and wondered for the millionth time how I could be so lucky. We were a few miles from London and I'd have to rouse her to switch places with Felicity soon, but I wanted to prolong this moment as long as I could. The days past must have been trying for her, and I knew she hadn't been sleeping well. Not to mention, of course, that traveling itself was quite tiring and she needed this sleep.

"She is lovely. Fitzwilliam." Felicity spoke quietly so as not to rouse Elizabeth. "And witty, and brilliant, and kind, and she has a fire in her that I hope she will ignite in you." I didn't know how to respond to that. What was the protocol on replying as your wife compliments your mistress. I had to bite back the grin of happiness, as the word filled me with great calm and pleasure. She was my mistress, she was _mine_.

"Yes." I responded simply.

"I can see why you fell for her. I just wanted to say... I approve of her. I approve of this. I am happy that you are happy again, and I will do all I can to retain her."

"Felicity, I don't know what to say."

"A first for you, I'm sure." She replied wryly. "However I think it best that we too promise to be more frank with one another. While in public we must maintain that air of sophistication and well thought out language, I hardly think that necessary between the two of us. If you find yourself unsure of what you should say, simply say how you think and feel without thought to how it will make you appear. I do believe that this may help our relationship intensely." Curious. Perhaps I may try just that.

"Thank you then, for bringing her with, and for your blessing."

"There is nothing to thank for. I am happy. This is good. Now wake her, we will need to change seats again."

* * *

 **Elizabeth Bennet**

Upon our arrival to Darcy House in London, Felicity took my arm and led me in, introducing me to all the staff as her particular friend and new companion. She mentioned that we would spend the next day shopping for my essentials and then a few other trinkets, but that for the foreseeable future, I would be present and my presence should be seen as commonplace. She told them that she wished me to be close to her at all times, and that they should ready the Oak room for my use while I was in attendance at Darcy House. As we departed their company and she began to tour me about the place, she mentioned quietly that any decorations I wished be brought in or removed would be done so without worry, and that as this was my home now, I shouldn't consider it an issue. She also added quietly that the Oak room was connected to her own room.

"Darcy House has an interesting layout. Before the Darcy's bought it, generations ago, what is now the Oak room was for a sickly son of the couple who built it. His room was directly connected to both of his parent's suites, which, as is the custom, were also connected. The passageways were private so that the parents could tend to their child without too many servants knowing of his needs and oddities." She smiled at me. "What I am saying of course, is that while it is known that the room connects to mine and as such, it will not be considered anything out of the ordinary for you to inhabit it, the room also runs directly to Fitzwilliams room. This will allow the two of you private access without any of the servants knowledge." I flushed and Felicity grinned at my reaction.

"How innocent are you? Well I do imagine it will not remain thusly much longer. As it is, no such passageway exists to Fitwilliam's rooms at Pemberley beyond mine and I can hardly switch rooms with you without creating suspicion to the point of complete knowledge of the staff and while I trust them, I do think it would do well to be a bit more sure of ourselves. While we are here, we shall have to drum up a solution for our return their."

"Thank you, Felicity." She waved her hand. "It is nothing. Come. Let us change our clothing and be off to the modiste! They are still open and we shall be able to put the initial order in immediately!" We retreated to our rooms and I saw that my small trunk had been brought in and placed, open, at the foot of my bed - a spectacular furnishing that was indeed made of Oak - with a green dress placed atop. I put it on immediately but nearly jumped in shock when someone opened the door amidst my dressing.

"Excuse my lateness, Miss Bennet." The girl curtseyed and smiled. "I didn't know you were already heading back, Mrs. Darcy only just told me. My name is Elsie, I'll be your personal maid."

"My personal maid?" I asked in shock.

"Yes Miss. I will be here to help you bathe, dress, and ready yourself for any event. I was one of Mrs. Darcy's undermaids, but she thought I deserved the promotion, you see. I'm nothing short of thrilled to be your chief maid."

"Oh." I said nodding. "I must admit, I've never had my own maid, my sisters and I have always shared one, and beyond that we simply help each other."

"Truly? Well I am happy to be of service. Anything you need beyond what a maid could do, tell me anyway and I can find you someone to help." I nodded.

"Thank you Elsie. Mrs. Darcy and I were about to leave for the modiste. I am simply changing my dress."

"Yes Miss. I am here to help you." Within a quarter hour, I was in the green dress, and my hair had been styled in an intricate updo. Elsie insisted that it would be best, as I would likely be trying on sample dresses and I didn't want a lower hair style to get caught up as the stylists were helping me. I agreed to whatever she suggested and found myself partaking in a rub of smelling salts of sorts which gave me a rather floral scent. Soon enough, Mrs. Darcy and I were back in the carriage as Fitzwilliam retreated into his office to catch up on some work. Before we left, the three of us ensconced ourselves in the large room and Felicity busied herself with her bag as he kissed me goodbye, quite thoroughly.

The afternoon passed rather pleasantly, as Felicity showed a side of her I didn't quite expect. She was charming, and altogether far more high-spirited than I would have guessed and much more playful and teasing than I had ever seen her. She seemed to be taking her promise to be truly herself with me much more seriously. After ordering far too many dresses, accessories, and other necessities, we found ourselves chatting away on the way to our last stop.

"Undergarments, Elizabeth." She'd said as we'd departed the last store. "You may have what you _need_ but as a mistress, there are other things that you may desire, or even more so, that _he_ may desire, and I am determined to treat you as another thank you for what you are doing."

"Felicity, you are doing far more for me than I for you." I protested.

"On the contrary. I told you before, You are my confidant, and you shall find that I am in sore need of you."

"A woman such as yourself has many friends," I insisted. "I fail to see how you could not find one among them to confide in." She grew quiet for a moment and taking a deep breath, began to answer.

"What you say is true, however there are things I am unable to say to even my closest of friends. You seem to understand, however, that we may do anything for love." I nodded.

"Yes. Of course."

"May I tell you my first secret, Elizabeth? I need your utmost assurance that this will stay between us."

"I shall take it to my grave, Felicity." I swore.

"I am not attracted to my husband the way a wife tends to be. When we first got married, I saw that many of my friends felt the same way and I didn't see anything wrong with how I felt. Many women in my circle do not marry for love, I was simply another choosing to marry for security and contentment instead. I was happy with my choice, and I still am, but I have since learned something about myself that explains my lack of love for Fitzwilliam." She took a deep breath. "I am not attracted to my husband, Elizabeth, but there are others that I do feel that way for."

"I see. You have fallen in love yourself." I took a deep breath and smiled. This was not so bad. Indeed she even understood my predicament.

"No. I have not fallen in love, I have simply been...attracted to others." She paused a moment, flushing. "Other women, Elizabeth." I had to repeat what she'd said in my head a few times before it sunk in. I had heard about this, men and women finding comfort and love in the arms of someone of their own gender. It was said to be a sin, but I failed to see the sin in love of any kind, though perhaps that had something to do with my own love.

"I see I have shocked you now, Miss Bennet." Felicity spoke with a teasing tone that didn't reach her eyes. She was withdrawing. She believed me to hate her now, to be disgusted by her revelation, but I found that I could not be.

"Felicity." I began taking her hand in mine. "I believe we decided you would call me Elizabeth."

"You are not appalled." It was neither a question nor a statement, but rather a sentiment of shock, something which crossed the line between query and comment.

"Am I to be disgusted by love? I would be quite the hypocrite if I was. Besides, you are my particular friend, and I have no intention of judging you where you have not judged me." She threw her arms around me and pulled me into a hug.

"My dear friend you have no idea how long I've wished to say this aloud. I have been fraught with fear of your disdain, but I now know that what I said, about our friendship and how you are to be like a sister to me will come to pass."

"I am happy to be your confidant, Felicity. As you are mine."

"Indeed!" She grinned. "Come now, let us buy you undergarments that shall make your love drool all over himself and then we shall retreat to Darcy House for dinner, after which I will finally be able to rest happily and you, will finally lose some of that innocence." I flushed again, much to her delight and she let out a peal of laughter. I look forward to many years of friendship, Elizabeth."

"As do I, Felicity."

* * *

 **A/N: So for those of you who haven't figured it out yet...you really don't need to be worried about Felicity:) From here on out, she and Lizzy are going to be friends, a family unit of sorts. I promise that we can all breath a bit easier. I had to push back the smut another chapter because this was getting really, really long, but I promise I'll post soon so you won't have to wait that long for it! I hope you are all enjoying - thank you all so much for the feedback and encouragement and suggestions! I really appreciate it! You guys are the best and I hope you are enjoying my story. xoxo - Devilishly Tempting**

 **P.S. Also - I haven't decided if I'm including Wickham in this. If you have a preference one way or the other, please let me know!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: This chapter is extra long because I extra love you all! I hope you enjoy it and I'd LOVE to hear what you think so please review!**

 **I have never written smut in a different time period before so I struggled with the limited vocabulary a bit...any ideas or tips you lovely people have would be greatly appreciated! xoxo - Tempting**

.

 **So many reviews to respond to! (If you log in and turn on your PM feature I can respond personally!)**

 **To the guest who asked about Felicity's personality change: I will explain the issues with Georgiana later:) As for her change - it is something I've witnessed personally, someone coming out and instantly being able to be their true person rather than the repressed, scared person who lashes out because of their fear and self perceived shame. Someone I wasn't too fond of came out and now she's one of my best friends because she's able to be herself rather than putting on this aggressive mask that keeps people away so they won't find out.**

 **To K L Godevi:** **Olá! Por favor, perdoe meus erros, pois estou traduzindo isso em espanhol, o que também não é minha primeira língua. Eu adoro ouvir de você nos comentários! Você tem uma perspectiva tão interessante! Eu quero avisá-lo um pouco: o propósito desta história é principalmente sexual e é provável que em algum momento Felicity e Elizabeth estejam juntos em algum momento ... romanticamente. Se isso ajudasse, eu poderia colocar um aviso no topo desse capítulo quando surgir para que você possa ignorá-lo? Caso contrário, você pode querer abandonar esta história. Muito obrigado pela leitura e revisão! Abraços e beijos!**

* * *

 **Elizabeth Bennet**

Felicity had bought me a nightgown that I was certain was far too scandalous, even for a mistress to wear, and yet the way I felt when I put it on...well I couldn't exactly refuse her. It was white and lacey, she told me that I only lost my virginity once, I may as well give it everything I had. You could see through the wide lace of the fabric, enough to see the changing colors around my nipples and the hair between my legs. It had thin straps to hold it up, and it flowed gently around my thighs, coming to a stop just above my ankles. The garment was loose and free flowing and very likely the most sexual piece of clothing that could ever exist. I was... well I felt... different, in the nightgown. More confident, perhaps. Certainly more wanton. All that was left was to hope that Fitzwilliam would like it too. Felicity laughed when I said as much and ensured me in no uncertain terms that he would adore it. After dinner, when the ladies retreated to Felicity's sitting room and Fitzwilliam had to go see to some last minute business, Felicity had bequeathed me another gift.

"Books. I know you like to read a great deal and of course Fitzwilliam would allow you to partake in anything from one of his libraries, or purchase a tome we do not possess, however these are of a more feminine nature... the sort of thing he would not think to buy."

"I'm afraid I don't quite take your meaning."

"Elizabeth, these books talk of matters that you as a mistress, will soon be well aware of. Some are more narrative in nature, stories of men and women engaging in acts of a sexual nature, where as others strive to simply be informative, teaching you about your body and his." I flushed again.

"Ah."

"I shall miss your embarrassment, but I think I should like to have someone to discuss such things with just as much, so perhaps I won't be so melancholy when the day comes you do not flush so."

"Again I thank you for the gifts, Felicity."

"But of course! I am happy to pass them along. I recommend that you do not partake in them until after this night. They make a bit more sense and prove to cause less apprehension than if you were to begin reading them without at least a basic understanding of what occurs between a man and a woman." I opened my lips to ask a question, but hurriedly realized it was not the sort of thing I should be asking. "No, Elizabeth, I thought we agreed that there would be no secrets between us! What was it you wished to ask?"

"If I offend you or upset you, I beg you will disregard my words."

"Indeed."

"You talk of this as what occurs between a man and a woman, but surely you do not feel as I do about the subject." I began delicately. She grinned upon understanding my meaning.

"Not about the particulars of the male aspects to be sure, however the general idea of lovemaking I certainly hold a great deal of interest for."

"I see." I cleared my throat. "Forgive me, but it was my understanding that the male organ is rather necessary to such an act." Again, she looked pleased at my utterance.

"I thought so too. As it turns out, one of the books in your hands details another form of pleasure to be derived, one which requires no male presence at all if the ladies in question do not wish there to be. Are you telling me you have taken no pleasure for yourself, without Fitzwilliam there?" I flushed, remembering pleasantly the night I'd discovered the gem hidden between my legs.

"No, I suppose I see your point."

"Yes. And if doing such things to yourself can be pleasant, I only imagine what they might feel like at the hands of one someone may actually care for." I had no response for this. "Listen to me rattling on. Let us be off to bed so that we may retire in a manner which suits us both very well." I smiled at this and agreed. The nerves were certainly running rampant, and I knew my anxiety for this night should be overtaking me, but I could not help my desire to be with my Fitzwilliam, and I instead found myself pleasantly anticipating the upcoming events. I dismissed Elsie after my bath was complete, insisting that I should like to dress myself for bed. She did not question me and I locked the door after she left. I hurried to prepare myself for Fitzwilliam when I stumbled upon a conundrum. What was to happen now? Was I to wait for him here? Or was I to take the passageway that Felicity had told me of and go to him? We had not planned the particulars and now I was in a fluster, unsure of what to do. I struggled with it for a few moments before deciding that I was being absolutely ridiculous and that I needed to get a grip on myself and just go to him. I was halfway through the passageway when it became clear he had had similar thoughts. There he was. My Fitzwilliam. He was in the same leggings he had had on during supper, but his cravat, his vest, and his jacket were all missing, leaving instead his shirt, unbuttoned past his ribs. I could see his chest - a fine specimen indeed! - and I reveled at the light spattering of dark hair I saw there.

"Lizzy." He breathed, his voice choking on itself.

"Fitzwilliam." I replied, hearing as much desire and longing in my voice as had been prevalent in his. "I didn't know if you would come to me or if I should..." I trailed off, finding myself far too distracted by his appearance.

"I realized too late we hadn't planned it." He replied, stepping forward to take my hand. "My Lizzy, come with me." He led me back down the passageway, past the door which led to Felicity's chambers and to his own. Upon entering I gasped. His room was lit with candlelight, his bed had been turned down, looking altogether too inviting, and the curtains of each window had been closed, save for one, which looked out onto the forest, allowing a sliver of moonlight in. It was magical. His hands held my hips as he stood behind me, his lips reaching down to caress my neck.

"Lizzy." He murmured as he kissed me there. "My Lizzy."

"Fitzwilliam." I replied. "I am a virgin, coming to you to give you my virtue. I beg of you, do not make me wait much longer to give it." He growled, a sound of triumph and excitement.

"I wish to ready your for this, my darling." He said, his voice low and filled with emotion. "It will take some time, but I promise that you will still find pleasure all the while." I turned around, hoping my eyes would convince him if nothing else would.

"I understand that it can hurt the first time - I do. And I know you wish to make that pain less for me, but my dear, I have been waiting for you for months. I cannot wait much longer. Do not worry yourself with that, take me." My desire mirrored back in his own eyes, he nodded slowly.

"How can I deny you anything you ask of me, my love?" He asked me gruffly. He walked towards me, forcing me to step backwards to match his pace, until me knees hit his ornate bed. "Particularly when what you ask aligns so clearly with my own desires?"

"Make me yours, Fitzwilliam." I whispered to him. His lips attacked mine and I did my best to keep up. That hot, pleasant liquid was already pooling between my legs and it only worsened as his hands worked to remove his shirt and shove down his pants. I didn't look, not just yet, I was far too preoccupied with kissing his lips, his neck, the skin of his chest, anywhere I could reach. His hands gripped the edge of my nightgown and pulled it up, the cool air of the room reaching my center. I gasped at the pleasant sensation and moaned into his kiss, as his finger found that spot my own had discovered. "Now Fitzwilliam, please!" I begged, unsure if I could take the deprivation of him any longer. I felt a stiff rod being pressed against my entrance, and before I was able to look down or assess the situation, he had impaled me. I screamed out and I felt him pause, ceasing his motions. It had been a noise of pain, but something more than that. It was pain. And pleasure. All in one feeling.

"My dear are you-" He began nervously.

"Don't stop." I insisted, wanting the pain to cease and the pleasure to take over. He grunted at that and pulled himself back, before thrusting forward again. I marveled at the sensation. Being filled was one thing, but the movement, the sensations this caused, it was like nothing I ever could have imagined. My nightgown was pushed up around my waist, leaving my full lower body exposed and as the breeze filtered into the open window, I couldn't help but shiver at the delectable feeling it gave me. The breeze provided a cooling sensation, which mixed with the new feelings I now was experiencing was the greatest thing I had ever felt. The pain was quickly receding and I found myself desperate to feel filled. I pushed my hips towards Fitzwilliam as he thrust, deepening the sensation. We both groaned at the increase in feeling.

"Oh my Lizzy," he moaned out.

"Yes." I breathed.

"Yes?" He asked.

"Yes, I am yours, Fitzwilliam." That was all it took. He had evidently been holding back, trying not to hurt me, but upon my declaration, his movements sped up and he thrust into me with abandon. I cried out at the pure pleasure of it all. He held himself aloft above me with one arm, as the other spanned my hip, holding me to the bed so that he could take control as he thrust into me.

"Fuck." He swore, the word I had rarely heard somehow adding to the excitement rather than shocking me out of it as I might have expected. His lips descended upon my neck again, and he ravaged me thoroughly.

"Fitzwilliam!" I cried out. That feeling, the one I had experienced only once before was building up quickly inside of me. I knew what that meant. The explosion I had felt before was soon to arrive. It was stronger this time, so, _so_ much stronger than when I had brought it on myself. Just before I could reach the peak, however, Fitzwilliam cried out and pulled out from within me. I cried at the loss of him, but he turned his body, and reached down to himself with his hand. The position we were in didn't allow me to see what he was doing, but his body stuttered for a moment and he groaned out a sound of relief a few moments later. I felt a drop of something wet land upon my hand as I reached for him.

"I'm sorry, my Lizzy. I could not last any longer." Without thinking I sighed out in discontent. "Oh God, you were close." He said in shock.

"Close to-"

"Your orgasm." He shook his head. "Please allow me to help you."

"Is that what it is called?"

"When I...do that? Yes."

"I think I've done that before."

"You have?" He asked, his tone sounding truly shocked.

"At the Rose & Crown. After you... showed me how you took care of your problem." I replied with heavy suggestion dripping from my words. "I couldn't get you out of my head and what you did... I touched myself and it was unlike anything I'd ever felt." I smiled at him. "Until now, this was so much more than I could have imagined."

"You touched yourself?" His voice sounded choked and thrilled all at once. His fingers reached down between my legs and gently caressed my entrance. "Like this?" I nodded, biting my lip in anticipation. "Tell me about it, Lizzy. Tell me exactly what you did." When I spoke, his fingers did as I described, and as such, I spoke faster and faster as the story progressed.

"I wondered...I wondered if I could touch myself as you had yourself." I began, with a gasp as his finger traced me. "So I reached down and traced myself as you are doing now."

"And then, my little minx?" He asked.

"I found my entrance, and I played with it."

"Yes, yes tell me how you played with it."

"I pushed one finger inside," I had to pause to gasp as his finger forcefully entered me. It was by no means as large as his member, but it delighted me nonetheless. "And then I moved it about, exploring the inside of my body."

"I can understand why." He returned. "Your walls are unparalleled in their pleasant heat, and delightful ridges."

"I found the ridges most interesting, I had no idea such a thing existed inside me."

"Tell me what you did next, my love."

My other hand, it slipped down as well. It found..."

"Tell me."

"A small round, something." I said, frustrated at my lack of word. He pressed on just the right spot and I gasped.

"This, my love?" He asked. I nodded, biting my lips to hold in my noises of pleasure.

"This is your clitoris, Lizzy. It is here solely for your pleasure." I couldn't answer, I was too fixated on the sensation. "What did you do then?" He prompted.

"I rubbed it, and rolled it between my fingers." He did so and I cried out. "Oh Fitzwilliam!" I was near to tears at the onslaught of pleasure. I was so close to that peak, almost anything would send me over it I was certain.

"And then you rubbed it until you came?" He asked.

"I didn't know what was happening," I admitted, "it just felt so good!"

"I can make you feel that good and better, my Lizzy. Do you want that?" I nodded frantically.

"Please!" I begged. The finger that was within me began to move in motions which mimicked that of his member. He then began to roll his finger around my clitoris, pressing it and moving it in ways which made me forget to breath. The sensation within me was mounting, ever mounting, and I could feel my belly rolling with pleasure.

"Cum for me Lizzy." He whispered. His voice sent me over the edge, and my body spasmed violently as a scream was torn from my body. His fingers continued his ministrations all the way through the pleasurable event. When I had finished, I opened my eyes to see him, eyes dark with lust, holding his fingers up for inspection. They were wet with my liquid and I blushed. Instead of seeming disgusted, or displeased, he grinned, and bringing his hand to his lips, he licked off the finger which had been inside me. My eyes widened at the act.

"Fitzwilliam." I breathed out, contentedly. He turned over, lying on the bed beside me. "That was wonderful."

"The night is far from over, my love."

As he lay, breathing hard and recovering from our lovemaking, I rose from the bed. I walked over to the mirror beside his washbasin and looked at myself. My cheeks and chest were flushed red, and my hair had escaped from its plait, curling frizzily around my head. My nightgown still hung pleasantly on me - I doubted a garment of that caliber could do anything less - but there was something gleaming in my eyes that made it appear to its best advantage. Despite the beautiful garment and the way my eyes stared back at me, I knew I looked an absolute wreck. My skin was blotchy, red patches had sprung up in the most awkward places, and instead of the curls I worked so hard to maintain, my hair seemed to be flying every which way, and not in that carefree youthful way that Kitty always pulled off with ease. I glanced down, embarrassed that Fitzwilliam should see me this way, and reached for a brush to tame the flyaways.

"Don't." He said, cutting into my reverie.

"Sorry?" I asked, not understanding.

"You look incredible. Don't try to change it."

"I look a fright, Fitzwilliam."

"You look like a woman who has been ravaged."

"Indeed."

"I would like you to look like this more often."

"You would like me to look like a fright?" I teased with a smile.

"Yes."

"You find _this_ attractive?" I asked incredulously, gesturing to the mess upon my head. He slowly rose from where he still lay and walked over to me. He stood behind me and gently untied the straps holding my nightgown in place. It fell to the floor and he pushed it aside with his bare foot. I looked away from the mirror, embarrassed.

"No my love, look. See what I see." I slowly returned my gaze to the shining surface, our reflection just visible in the dwindling candlelight. His hand reached out and traced down my arm, while the other gently pulled my hair back to reveal a series of particularly dark splotches on my neck. "When I see these, I see how furiously I kissed your neck, kissed you so hard it bruised." I shivered at the intensity in his words. His hand moved on, running his fingers through my loose hair. "When I see your hair a mess like this, it reminds me of how I ran my fingers through your soft tresses all while reveling in the feeling. It reminds me of how hard I thrust against you, hard enough to move your entire body, rubbing you against our bed, messing your hair as only sex can." I took a hold of his hand and moved it down to the flush upon my chest.

"And here?"

"This reminds me of the look on your face when I first impaled you. It is a look I shall never forget, and at the same time, your cheeks and chest turned red with lust and embarrassment all in one." His hand traced down my side to a red mark on my leg. "And here is where I held you tightly as I made love to you for the first time." I shivered, leaning back into him, desperate for more of his touch. I could feel his manhood. It wasn't as stiff as it had been the first time, but it was getting there. "Lizzy." He breathed out, desire evident in his voice.

"Yes, Fitzwilliam."

"Hold the edge of the table." I tried to turn, my brow furrowed to question him, but his hands reached down to grip my hips, keeping me in place.

"Why my love?"

"I want you to see what I see." I still didn't understand but I did as he asked. "Whatever you do, don't look away from the mirror. Watch us, my love." He put one hand on my shoulder and gently pushed me downwards. My face was closer to the mirror now, and my entire field of vision was taken up by the sight of me, with him behind me. My backside was sticking out behind me now, fully vulnerable. Fitzwilliam's hand reached around me and down between my legs. He played with me then, not aggressively as he had before when he forced me to... cum. Softly, gently, making me squirm and bit my lip in anticipation. My juices were flowing again and I pressed myself into his hand, silently begging for more. "Tell me." He said softly. "Tell me what you are feeling."

"I want you again." I said in a single, pent up breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "I don't feel complete without you inside me." I told him honestly.

"I know how you feel." He admitted. "Tell me how it feels to be bent over like this."

"I feel..." I struggled to find the words, looking into my own eyes in the mirror, as though that would give me the words I was seeking. "Vulnerable. But in a good way. I feel like you could do anything to me and I would be powerless to stop it. I feel like I want you and I need you and that this position I am in allows that."

"Indeed, my Lizzy." He replied. His member was now rubbing against my entrance and I groaned in excitement. He had grown harder to my words, and I took mental note of that for the future. I pushed back towards him, introducing the tip of him into my folds.

"Please Fitzwilliam," I begged. "Please!"

"Look at us." he demanded. I acquiesced immediately and felt my center grow even wetter. He was close behind me, the top of his naked chest visible above my head in the mirror. I was bent over, fully at his mercy, my lips parted in anticipation, my eyes bright with excitement, and my breasts quivering as I shook ever so slightly, for the sheer joy of it all. His hands now reached down to my full hips and he gripped them tightly, indenting my shape. His manhood teased my entrance more and I found that given any more provocation I could weep for the sheer wanting. His strength as he stood behind me, ready to impale me once more was beautiful. He was beautiful. And for just a moment, I could understand how he thought that even looking a mess, I looked beautiful in this moment.

But that self-appreciation only lasted that single moment for the next he was thrusting inside me and my mind was cleared of everything but him. I cried out and he pulled my hips back towards him, controlling our pace and motions.

"Fitzwilliam!" I cried out as he pulled me back onto him. My eyes shut, basking in the sensation until he pulled me up, pressing my back to his chest so that the full length of our bodies ran along one another's. He was a full head taller than me, and as such, his lips were just above my ears.

"Open your eyes. Look." He begged me. I hazarded a glance and what I saw made me moan. One of his arms wrapped around my chest, his hand upon my shoulder holding me against him. The other still clutched my hip, pulling me back into him. He was bent over a bit too, not as much as I had been, but enough that we were both bent, tightly against each other, as we were joined. He kissed the side of my head and mumbled something unintelligible.

"So fucking good." He groaned out a moment later. I tightened my grip on the edge of the table, giving me the leverage to join in on the motion. I pushed myself back into him, and nearly cried out at the sensation. With us both frantically thrusting, he was reaching far, far deeper inside me. I could feeling him inside me, filling me up like I was meant to be filled.

"Don't stop!" I begged, worried that this feeling would be taken away from me. His hand left my hip and made its way to my clitoris. In time with his thrusts, he pinched and rubbed me there, making me scream out. It hurt but by God I wanted more.

"Yes!" I cried out. "Oh God, yes!"

"Are you close?" he asked, between the noises he was making which only served to urge me on. I hadn't been cataloging it this time, but the moment he asked I knew that I was.

"Yes! Yes Fitzwilliam!"

"Do you want to cum, my Lizzy?" He asked, as though that was even a question in my mind.

"Yes! Please!" I begged. I had never been much of a beggar before but now, I would get on my hands and knees and do whatever he asked if he could push me there. "Fitzwilliam please!" I begged. I looked up into the mirror and did my best to commit the look in his eyes to memory. They were dark, almost black, and as his body traced my own in the mirror, I could feel his skin on mine and there was nothing better in the whole world. His thrusts were speeding up and I knew he was close to completion as well but he seemed determined to make me finish first. His fingers doubled their efforts between my legs as he thrust as deeply as we could in this position. My vision went white as I was thrown heartily over the edge. My legs shook and if it weren't for his arms wrapped around me, they would have given out completely and I would have fallen. I could feel my insides clamping around him, as if I were trying to keep him there forever. He let out a shout to match the scream that had escaped me and pulled himself from within me. I nearly cried at the loss of contact as I felt a spurt of wetness on my lower back, a thick, hot liquid which dripped down slowly.

* * *

 **Author's Note: ...I did promise smut. What did you all think? Did you like it? Did you hate it? Either way I want to know!**

 **Game of the chapter: PM me with an idea or something you want Elizabeth to get up to while she's discovering her sexuality...best three will get chosen and I will write them!**

 **Love you all, Devilishly Tempting**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Dear humans - I am very sorry that so many of you seem to be so offended by this fic - I did think it was clear in the description what you were getting yourself into but evidently all ya'll thought she was not going to be his mistress or have sex in the story called mistress of pemberley and rated MA. Ya know. Whatever. (Also, I feel the need to point out the irony of you hating on it in one chapter and then reviewing the same angry stuff in the next few chapters...like if you already hated it and were soooooo offended, why did you keep reading? hahaha! I'm laughing a bit about that, so cheers!)**

 **I'm about to play with Felicity's Point of View ... I don't know how that's going to go so if you love/hate it, please let me know! That will inform future decisions! There is some fem/fem stuff in this chapter (NOT BETWEEN ELIZABETH AND ANYONE...yet...) But some people asked for a warning so here it is. Warning. Anyway... without further ado... my "shameful and disgusting" writing! (holla Vero Diaz!)**

* * *

 **Felicity Darcy**

I had never seen my husband so carefree and happy. Even in our early days, when I allowed him his rights as my husband regularly in the hope of conceiving a child, he had never looked so... blissful. If wasn't the sex - or rather it wasn't _just_ the sex - it was her. She made him this happy. And that made me happy. Our children rushed to his side and he swooped down to pick them up with a grin and a laugh and played with them an entire half an hour before we broke our fast. The children of course were then taken away with their nurses to eat, and Elizabeth joined us in the dining room. She wore a lovely crimson dress, lovely if still quite simple. I made not of the color as it suited her wonderfully, and determined to purchase one of her gowns in just that shade. The pair of them didn't dare look each other in the eyes until the servants had finished serving the meal and retreated out. Then there eyes were locked upon one another, silently communicating something which made them smile and her, bat her eyelashes, unintentionally looking utterly irresistible. I smiled to myself, and turned down to my eggs.

I hazarded a glance at Elizabeth. I did understand why he had been so attracted to her. She was slender, but not slight. She had full hips and a round chest, and there was something particularly special about her eyes. They seemed to glow with a pure excitement for life. She was witty and well read and she had a biting sense of humor. Her innocence also seemed to strike me, though I wasn't certain that had the same effect on my husband. She was curious, about everything it seemed, and a wayward thought wondered if she might be the same way in the bedroom. I smiled as I imagined another reality, one where Miss Elizabeth Bennet had come to Darcy House with the purpose of being _my_ Mistress. However such a world was not to be.

I glanced back up at their grinning faces and rolled my eyes.

"Elizabeth," I interjected with fake innocence of mind. "Did you sleep well last night?" She flushed brightly and I laughed. I loved it when she blushed. It reminded me of a younger me.

"My night was most enjoyable, Felicity," She returned diplomatically. My husband had a look of pride on his face at that and it took everything in my power not to laugh. Men. So proud of pleasing a woman who knows not what pleasures life can truly hold in store for her.

"Wonderful. I am pleased for you my friend. I ought remind you that we have a fitting tomorrow, and that this morning I've promised to call on a few friends in town. I have told them of my charming new companion and they are longing to make your acquaintance."

"How kind of you!" She replied, genuinely. "Am I dressed appropriately for the day we have in store or shall I change into something else?" I appraised her quickly.

"For today you are certainly adequate. I must admit, however, that I long for your new gowns to arrive for then I shall have a great deal of fun dressing you up like a doll!" I told her. Turning to my husband I added, "What are your plans today, sir? When shall I bring your toy back to you?" Elizabeth blushed again but it seemed to me she was quite proud of the teasing title I had bestowed upon her.

"I too have business to attend to, Felicity. I shall be at the club for lunch so you ladies may do as you please, perhaps you would enjoy taking Elizabeth to one of the tea shops you are so fond of for your meal? I shall be home in time to dress for dinner."

"Perhaps you could manage to dress for dinner on your own?" I asked. His brow furrowed, not understanding. "I simply say so because my dear companion Elizabeth will be preparing to dress for dinner around the time you shall return, and she too, would be alone?" He smiled lazily and glanced at Elizabeth who eyed him hungrily.

"That could be arranged." He surmised. "I am off for the day." I rose to stand at the door to ensure no servants entered as the pair of them kissed goodbye.

As we settled ourselves in my chaise I noticed the slight red, swolleness to Elizabeth's lips. Overall the effect was charming, and it balanced her face out nicely. As we made our way towards our first stop I took her hand in mine and looked up at her excitedly.

"So?" I prompted eagerly. "How was it? Is my darling friend a little girl no more?" She blushed but nodded with a grin.

"Several times over, in fact." She admitted, much to my enthrallment. After my constant entreaties for her to tell me more lasting a good half a mile of road, she finally broke down and told me all. "He wished to prepare me for the pain but by then I was so desperate I begged him to just do it." My eyes widened.

"Truly? Did it hurt very much for you?"

"Yes but it was so intermixed with pleasure that I found I didn't mind so terribly."

"Did you bleed?"

"A little. I was mortified when I saw it but he was so pleased! He was so pleased at a whole myriad of things which made no sense to me!" Before I could ask what on earth she meant by this, she endeavored to tell me. " When we had both finished the first time, I got up to fix my hair and noticed in the mirror what a wreck I looked and I was about to straighten myself out when he insisted I leave it!" But of course. "He was so pleased that I looked a frightful mess, do you not find that odd?"

"Not in the slightest my dear, you did not look a frightful mess, I am sure of it. You just looked thoroughly fucked." Her eyes darted around at that word and I was pleased to have shocked her so.

"He said the same. He also said..."

"Yes?"

"Not then of course, in the middle of the first time, he swore, he said..." She lowered her voice and murmured the word, "Fuck. He said fuck, and of course I understand men are wont to speak thusly, particularly when their inhibitions are lowered, as is such with such an act but I..."

"You what?" I prompted after what felt an eternity.

"The word, it seemed to suit the actions and it made me feel..."

"It spurned you on. It excited you."

"Yes. Just so."

"My dear Elizabeth, with the amount you blush at the simplest things, I am all a wonder that you are the sort to be turned on by dirty talk!" I exclaimed excitedly. "This is good! Now you know and we can use this to your advantage. I happen to know that Fitzwilliam also enjoys talking about the act."

"I had noticed this."

"Yes, you seem to have matched in this, and that is good! I am happy for you my friend!"

"Felicity, forgive me if it is to forward to ask, but as you are not attracted to him... when you... were intimate with him, how was it for you? Was it like it was for me?"

"Heavens no, Elizabeth! I had to lie still and close my eyes and pretend it wasn't him at all!" I could see the shock in her eyes. "The sensations themselves were pleasant enough, but I held no attraction for him. I wished for a more womanly presence in my bed. I had to close my eyes and picture a dear friend of mine for whom I held a flame for at the time and pretend it was her doing such things to me for me to get any enjoyment at all. I suffered it for the pure sake of procreation."

"You didn't enjoy it at all?" She asked, amazed. "I have heard of women not enjoying their marriage beds but that..."

"He is quite skilled. And over time he learned my body and how to physically please me. But I did not desire him, and the sex is much less enjoyable when one isn't properly aroused. I think the two of you are a much better match and I hope that his struggles at pleasing me have created a man who is well versed in the human body and can please you more than he would have otherwise. Many women do not enjoy the marriage bed purely because their husbands have no inclination of their forms and stumble around completely inept. I have a feeling that this will never be your lot in life."

"Indeed not, my dear Felicity." She replied with a glint in my eyes.

"So..." I began lightly. "How _many_ times." She flushed again before responding.

"Three last night, and once very quickly this morning before I had to hurry back to my room."

"A brilliant beginning! Three is now your number to beat it would seem!" She flushed but before I could tease her any further, we had arrived.

* * *

"Mrs. Darcy, and Miss Bennet ma'am." Sarah's butler announced us as we entered and she instantly rose and came to greet me.

"Felicity!" She announced gaily. "It has been an age! I am so happy to see you again! And Miss Bennet, when Felicity wrote to tell me of her new companion we all began planning this moment in our minds. Felicity dear, your descriptions of her don't do her justice. You are lovely, my dear Miss Bennet."

"You are too kind," Elizabeth replied before continuing the meeting in a perfectly charming way.

Our interactions with the ton continued in much of the same manner throughout the day. My friends were charmed by Elizabeth and she strove to fit in well and do her part as my companion. For a married woman to have a companion was, while not unheard of, quite rare, and as such, my friends were incredibly curious as to this woman I had brought into my household. Upon meeting her however, their suspicion dropped away and they very likely each assumed that she was simply a particular friend of whom I wished to have a permanent place by my side.

She had done well today, and I found myself with my own sense of pride about Elizabeth. We hadn't returned in enough time for a fuck for her and Fitzwilliam before dinner so I feigned tiredness - I was quite looking forward to being alone in my room, that part was true enough - and asked Elizabeth to help me prepare for bed. With a significant look at my husband, he too made his excuses and retreated upstairs. I overheard a servant on my way up comment about how often the master and mistress were shagging these days and while I didn't encourage gossip in my household, this bit of nonsense did buy us a bit of collateral. After wishing each other goodnight, Elizabeth scampered off into the passageway to find Fitzwilliam, and I laid down in bed with one of my favorite books. It wasn't officially published anywhere, but a woman with the money and power I possessed could get her hands on such things.

* * *

 _"Emily," Francesca's voice was like honey, dripping from between plump, red, lips as she spoke to her most loyal servant. "I wish to reward you, for all you have done for me. What do you wish for?"_

 _"I only wish to please you." Emily replied. "It is my deepest wish, Mistress Rene."_

 _"Emily, how long have we known each other, you and I? Please, call me Francesca."_

 _"Francesca." Emily replied, trying the name out on her tongue, which rolled the sounds out like music lilting from a opereta's voice._

 _"Please, tell me of your desires, and I shall grant them."_

 _"In earnest, Francesca," Emily insisted. "I only wish to please you." Something dark and warm flashed between their eyes and Francesca looked upon her servant Emily and saw what she had overlooked for some time._

 _"Very well, servant. Help me undress." Emily calmly strode forward and make quick work of her mistress's garments, until Lady Francesca was in naught but her shift._

 _"I said, help me undress. I cannot untie this shift on my own, can I?" Francesca demanded. Emily looked into her mistresses eyes as she helped her rid herself of her soft, cotton shift. Now the Lady Francesca stood naked before her servant, and she tucked one finger beneath Emily's chin, forcing the girl to look her in the eye. What she saw there mirrored her own desires and Francesca knew what Emily felt as truly as if it were her own heart._

 _"What do you desire, Emily?" she asked again.  
_

 _"My only will is to please you, my Lady." Francesca did not correct her this time, for while she loved to hear her servant speak her name, she saw the shift in power that Emily gave her when referring to her formal title._

 _"Very well. My back aches." Francesca demanded. "Rub it for me." Francesca lay on her bed, right down the middle, so that in order to rub her back, Emily would also have to climb into the lady's bed. Her small fingers deftly kneaded and pushed upon the lady's sore back making her moan in quiet adoration of Emily's ministrations._

 _"Is aught the matter, my Lady?" Emily asked after Francesca had issued her utterances._

 _"Your dress." The lady demanded. "It tickles my skin as you rub my back. I insist you divest yourself of it."_

 _"Yes, my Lady." Francesca turned and watched as Emily stripped out of her dress, remaining in thin, white undergarments. She moved to return to her occupation of rubbing Francesca's back when the great Lady frowned most severely._

 _"Do you think that your undergarments will not tickle me as well? Remove them." She demanded. Emily acquiesced without question. As she pulled back the final layer of cloth, Francesca examined her servants body. Her breasts were much smaller than Francesca's and yet her nipples were far wider and darker. The hair between Francesca's legs was dark and soft, much like that upon her head, but when she looked between Emily's legs, the hair there was light, and curled. Emily had blonder hair, but it was straight, and Francesca longed to find if the hair covering her sex was courser or as smooth as her own. The girls hips were thin, the opposite of Francesca's round, fuller figure. Her legs were shorter and thinner, far more delicate that Francesca's longer limbs. Her waist was as slight as Emily herself, and Francesca found herself wondering if her hands might span such a distance._

 _After her examination was complete, she turned back to her belly, and allowed Emily to continue serving her. The girl knelt beside her and worked on her shoulder muscles._

 _"Enough." She said loudly. "My back is not all that ails me."_

 _"What else, then, my Lady?" Emily asked meekly._

 _"My breasts have grown sore, servant. My corset was too tight. Please rub them." She turned onto her back and displayed her cleavage proudly. Without hesitation, Emily's small, deft fingers went to her breasts. She rolled them between her hands, and gently rubbed and massaged them until Francesca was dripping with lust. Emily too, was not unaffected by her actions. In her mind, she could imagine the pair of them, breasts heaving against one another in the throes of passion, their nipples rubbing upon one another, stiff as beads. She imagined what it might be like to take Francesca's still nipples in her mouth and suck upon them until Francesca was crying out for her. She imagined Francesca rubbing her own breasts as she now rubbed Francesca's._

 _"What is it you desire, servant?" Francesca repeated once more, cutting into Emily's fantasy. Emily's eyes ran over Francesca's body once before she replied this time._

 _"I only desire to serve you."_

 _"That cannot be all that you desire." Then, quickly, before Emily even knew what was happening, Francesca put her hand between Emily's legs, and felt the wetness that had pooled there. She smiled at Emily's surprise. "See? I have found something else you desire." Emily grew bolder just then and looked into her mistress's eyes._

 _"I did not lie, Mistress." She replied. "My only desire, is to serve you. Please, My Lady, tell me what you desire and I shall do all within my power to give it to you." Francesca smiled at this and reclined upon the bed._

 _"I desire that you touch me. Just as I did you, and see how wet your rubbing me has made me." The girl knelt between Francesca's outstretched legs and tentatively reached a hand to do as she was told. Her mistress was indeed dripping with desire. "Put your finger inside of me, servant." Francesca demanded, much to Emily's delight. The girl did as she was asked and marveled at the tight, wet inside of the other woman. "Take it out." She demanded. "Taste it." The girl did as she was bid and sucked her finger clean, her eyes narrowing in happiness at the taste._

 _"Do you like that, servant?" Francesca asked her dear Emily. Emily nodded at once. "I thought as much. As your gift for your years of hard work, you shall taste to your heart's content. Lick me." She commanded. Emily moved closer to Francesca and dipped her head between her legs. Her tongue reached out experimentally and Francesca hissed at the sensation of the rough skin caressing her slit. One lick turned to two, and the second turned to much, much more. Emily's hands gripped her lady's thighs, holding Francesca close to her. her tongue darted in and out of her lady's slit and she reveled in the delectable noises of her mistress. Her tongue found Francesca's pearl and she took it between her lips and sucked it hard. Francesca cried out. "Make me cum." She commanded her servant and the girl happily took it upon her self to follow the order._

 _"Yes my lady." Emily stuck two fingers inside of Francesca this time, filling up her tight hole and pumped them in and out as a man would his throbbing cock. Her lips attached themselves to her lady's pearl and she nibbled at the thing, making Francesca scream out in pleasure. She continued to suck and lick at Francesca, her fingers pumping frantically until the lady screamed out, her body shaking and clenching down on her fingers like a vice, Emily's name on Francesca's lips as she came violently._

* * *

Felicity bit back a moan of her own. As the words fell off the page, dripping with pleasant seduction, her own fingers had worked their way down to her cunt, rubbing and pumping her as Emily did to Francesca. She wanted that - no, she _needed_ that. She needed a woman to fuck her and make her scream. She needed a pair of breasts to lavish with her attention. She needed a hot, wet, pussy to fuck and to rub against her own. She needed a lover. In the meantime, however, her own hands would have to do the trick. She paused for a moment and listened intently. Just barely, she could make out the high pitched noises of Elizabeth's moans. Only a small amount of imagination was required to pretend it was the moans and noises of her own lover once Felicity closed her eyes. Felicity's fingers worked their way around her sex, two of them ensconced within her. She wasn't really able to pump them in and out as Emily had done give the angle she was currently in, but her other hand had found her clit and she was rubbing it hard, fast, and without break. She focused on the sounds of sex coming from the room beside hers as she touched herself, faster and faster, harder and harder, until all at once, she came. Her hips moved of their own accord as she thrust into her fingers, riding out her pleasure. When she was sated, she licked her fingers clean, before rinsing them in the washbasin. Then, fully satisfied, she retreated to her bed and fell into a deep sleep, filled with dreams of the most pleasant kind, of a blonde servant girl who called her 'My Lady' and did unspeakable things to her.

* * *

 **A/N: Soooo... what do you think? I'd love to hear back so please review or PM me! I'm always looking for inspiration so please pass on any ideas you may have for me!**

 **Kisses and good wishes,**

 **Devilishly Tempting**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Thank you all so much for all your support and reviews! I'm loving all of this love from you guys! I'm glad that (most of) you are enjoying the story and I hope to do all of your expectations justice! Please review some more with any ideas, suggestions, advice, or just to chat!**

* * *

 **Elizabeth Bennet**

My new wardrobe had arrived and true to her word, Felicity was taking great enjoyment out of dressing me up like her doll. Several times a day she would attempt to wheedle me into a new look 'just because'. I managed to hold her attentions at bay on those particular requests, however each meal did see me in a new garment, and I was quite certain that I would have enough new garments to continue on in this manner for the next month. And that was just outer garments. I was under the opinion that there wasn't a lady in Europe who owned as much new lingerie and undergarments as I. Felicity told me that it was her gift, both to me, and to her husband for taking her advice and not being so dreadfully miserable. Even so, I had far too much new clothing. It did help that some of the clothing she had purchased for me was too warm to wear in London. Pemberley, she reminded me, was much further North and we would be there through the winter time. She then proceeded to tell me that she'd left my measurements with the shop ladies and that more winter specific clothing would be sent to me upon our arrival home.

Home. The word was pleasant and full of hope. It was odd, that the place I now associated with home was one I hadn't been to more than a handful of times. Pemberley. Fitzwilliam spoke of it with such joy and fullness of passion, I couldn't help but already by in love with it. What little I remembered of the place itself was delightful, and I could not wait to retreat there, where there would be less scrutiny and Fitzwilliam and I could act accordingly. Night times simply weren't enough for me anymore. Incredible as the past weeks had been, I desired more. I was quickly turning into one of the lustful ladies in the books Felicity had given me. Though not quickly enough for her liking. She still enjoyed tormenting my sense of propriety and making me blush, though I was happy to say the later occurrence was happening less and less often.

I supposed it would have been normal to consider Longbourn my home still. I knew from her many letters that Jane often found herself thinking of Longbourn upon the mention of home, and she had been in her new home of Netherfield for as long as I had been installed here at Darcy House, not to mention she had anticipated her move and eventual life at Netherfield for much longer than I had. Mary wrote less often, but she found life with her beau to suit her splendidly. The parish home they inhabited was smaller than Longbourn but Mary mentioned that the quiet solitude that offered her husband and her suited them very well indeed and she found she preferred it, though she too mentioned the confusion she'd had when her husband first mentioned gong home and her mind jumped to Longbourn. I did not see it so. Perhaps I had changed too much. Little Miss Lizzy Bennet had loved Longbourn and had called it home, but the Mistress Elizabeth was far too different a woman and simply could not find it within herself to wish back to how things used to be. Who I was now overtook my entire being. I was meant to be with Fitzwilliam. I was meant to feel such overwhelming passion and desire and the consequential delight of sensations which tended to occur between two souls who gave in to their passion. I knew Fitzwilliam was still nervous about Felicity. She had proven her loyalty and her oath to secrecy time and time again, but he didn't entirely understand how she couldn't feel the slightest bit hurt by his choice. I couldn't tell him, I had promised Felicity I would tell no one without her blessing - an occurrence which was unlikely to happen - and I intended to keep that promise. It was against the law, what she spoke of, and as wrong as that law was, a word to the wrong person could send her to prison, or seen her killed. The trust she had placed in me with her confidence, was astounding, and I worried not for her discretion. She would keep our secret, and I would keep hers.

Felicity had seemingly grown into a different person since she had confided in me, Fitzwilliam had mentioned it. She was less... miserable, I think. He thought it was having a new friend, being able to interact with someone like me again, and perhaps that was part of it, but I think it was largely a part in not having to hold onto that secret every minute of every day. I knew that her knowing about my relationship with Fitzwilliam had allowed me a sense of calm and a peace at not having to keep the secret.

"Elizabeth!" Speak of the devil! Felicity strode into the room and smiled at me. "The children were asking if you'd like to play with us this afternoon." I smiled. I had been apprehensive to meet Fitzwilliam's children. I wasn't sure how I would feel, to see the proof of his marriage to another woman. But one day out of the blue, Victor had escaped from his nanny and found me reading a book in the garden behind Darcy House. He had climbed into my lap and asked me what I was so focused on. We had struck up a conversation and since then, I had grown incredibly fond of the children. Lily had even begun call me Auntie Lizzy, since she liked me better than her real aunties, she had said.

After an afternoon of playing with the children and Felicity, we retired to a lovely family dinner. It was heartwarming to watch Fitzwilliam play with his children and become so utterly happy with them. They had warmed to him a great deal since our return to Darcy House and Felicity was nothing less than thrilled. Perhaps one day I may want children, but for now, I was perfectly content with practicing the process instead. The risk of falling pregnant was something that weighed on me slightly, but Fitzwilliam was always so careful not to cum inside of me and as Felciity said, we'd come to that when we did. She'd found a woman in town who made a tea which was said to keep women from falling pregnant and I was drinking it several times a day. Beyond that, we'd just have to pray that our luck continued.

* * *

"My love I would like to please you." Fitzwilliam smirked at me.

"You do please me, my dear. Many, many times over. Twice today, in fact." He replied.

"That isn't what I meant!" I exclaimed. "I read in a book about..."

"What books are you reading which talk about such subjects?" He asked, incredulous, though not displeased I noted.

"Felicity lended me a few things."

"Did she?" He asked. "How very thoughtful and kind of her."

"It is actually," I remarked. "I've enjoyed them immensely and I do believe that you, dear husband, are about to reap the benefits of my joy of literature and her happiness to supply me with new and varied content."

"Do tell." He asked, taking a sip of brandy.

"The book talked about pleasing one's partner with one's mouth." Fitzwilliam choked on his drink slightly before composing himself. It was several moments before he found it in himself to speak.

"Yes, yes that is something that some do."

"It was mentioned to be quite pleasurable."

"I would imagine so." I noticed that his cock had grown hard again and made note of his reaching down to touch it without thought. He did that often, when he suddenly grew aroused, just a simple reach down to skim it's surface.

"I am not quite sure how your manhood will fit in my mouth, but I should like to try." He nodded slowly and I got down on my knees before him. He looked down at me and for a moment I imagined what he must be seeing. My corset was still in place - a green, lacy thing that Felicity had said brought out my eyes - and I still had on my stockings and other undergarments, but from his angle, he must see a plentiful amount of my ample cleavage, and naught but my eyes, looking up at him. I reached out tentatively and touched his hardened cock. He hissed as he inhaled sharply at my touch and I couldn't help but smirk up at him. Tentatively, I reached out with my tongue and tasted him. He groaned out and, emboldened by his obvious pleasure I wrapped my lips around the tip of him. There was something about this position that clearly spoke to him. I had barely touched him and he was already wild for me. I found that I enjoyed bringing him such pleasure and I moved my lips further forward, touching his tip to the roof of my mouth. The noises he was making were positively sinful. I loved it. I gagged a bit on him as he slid even further back, and I instantly looked up to apologize for doing this wrong, but his eyes were slammed shut, and he seemed to have enjoyed the noise.

"I don't want to hurt you my love." He gritted out between his teeth. But I knew him. He'd enjoyed it. So I swallowed him down once more, gagging only lightly this time. "Oh my Lizzy." He breathed. I couldn't breath. I was enjoying this, but air was going to be necessary at some point. I pulled my head away, replacing my lips with my hands, rubbing him in the way I knew he liked. I found I missed the taste of him.

Catching my breath, I moved instead, to lick him. I licked his tip, the long line that ran the length of him, I lapped at him the way a cat laps at milk. He swore. Loudly. My tongue accidentally nudged lower than I'd intended, touching the soft, pliable skin beneath his cock. He froze.

"Do that again." He murmured after a moment's rest. I did, experimentally, listening in awe of his moan of joy. I loved hearing him. I loved knowing he was enjoying himself as much as I did when I pleasured him. He was much more vocal in the bedroom than he was in public and I adored that. After a few minutes of that, I had caught my breath enough to move back to his cock. I sucked it back inside my lips and massaged it with my tongue.

"Oh Lizzy! Oh yes! Shite!"I moved my mouth sloppily. I would improve at this I was certain, but even in my unpracticed state, he still seemed to enjoy it. My teeth had scrapped him a bit a few times, but he hadn't seemed to mind too much, as my tongue hastened to make up for it. I would improve. But for now, he was enjoying the experience plenty. That thought alone had my knickers soaked through. I loved to please him. I loved to make him feel this way. I moaned around him and he stuttered, thrusting into my mouth just a bit.

"Lizzy, you've got to stop. I'm going to cum." He swore. I thought back to the books Felicity had lent me. The men had liked it very much - being allowed to finish in their lovers mouths, on their skin... but he finished on my skin all the time. I wanted him to cum inside of me, and if it wasn't going to happen in my cunny, it could certainly happen here. I doubled my efforts and after a few more curse words that set my heart racing (in a good way) and an almighty thrust from Fitzwilliam, his hot emission, poured down my throat. I'd have like to have committed every bit of it to memory, but it happened too fast for me to register even something as basic as it's specific taste. More of what I'd tasted with his initial wetness, I supposed.

It had been hot, and wet, and I loved it. That was really all that mattered.

* * *

 **A/N: I'd love to hear what scenarios you'd like to see! PM me or review!**

 **xoxo - Tempting**


	10. REALLY IMPORTANT

**THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT:** A message to the haters: Ya'll need to _chill_. ("Several" of you also need to figure out how to use the right there/their/they're and your/you're. I'm just saying...) So if this is super offensive - PLEASE STOP READING. I'm not here to offend people and if this is upsetting to you in any way shape or form, do yourself a favor and stop reading! I'm really sorry for any upset I've caused to all of you. As to one of the "negative" reviews. You didn't leave a name so I can't talk to you personally - but I am SO sorry if you felt I was calling people stupid. The title is a play on the double entendre of the word 'mistress' but it's the description where I straight up reference the fact that Lizzy's going to be a mistress. I don't mean to call anyone stupid for missing that - I do mean to defend myself against people who have been sending vitriol into my pm box calling me a whore and a dumb slut and telling me that I should be in a psychiatric ward because clearly this was written to offend people and if I need the negative reviews so much I probably need clinical help. I was pretty clear about what this story was, and I was trying to reiterate that to anyone still reading who is offended. Also I wanted to point out how ridiculous it is that the same people are commenting and messaging me about how disgusted and offended they are chapter after chapter - like just stop reading?

.

Okay. But this isn't about me. There's something **really important t** hat I need to share. I find the hating pretty amusing. I've faced some _ACTUAL_ horrors in my life that make this basic, low key cyber bullying look like a birthday party. I can handle this and more and I'm getting quite the laugh at how the purists and trolls are admonishing me for writing this but continue to read it every time I post a new chapter, as well as a couple who have it Favorited and Followed...just saying. The **REALLY IMPORTANT** thing I want to talk about is our actions. This is not a plea for people to be 'nicer' to me or to lay off. I have consistently asked for all sort of reviews be they positive or negative because I think that looking at my work through the eyes of another will help me improve my writing and as someone pointed out to me, that could be considered me opening myself up to that sort of reviews I've been recieving. However I am an adult, who is well adjusted and confident in herself. There are a lot of really incredibly talented writers on here who do not have that luxury. There are writers who use this site as a way to share stories with the world - as a way to fight against depression, and suicidal thoughts, there are writers on here who are trying to grow with confidence as a writer. Young boys and girls who aren't sure if they have what it takes to be a writer when that's all they want to do in life. In the past, on older accounts, on different sites, Fandoms have always been nothing less that truly supportive. Negative comments were critiques on my grammar, or how I used a rhetorical device, or plot continuity - things that I could learn from. They weren't attacks on my personal character.

I am PRAYING that I am the only one this is happening to, because what if these same people are spewing this disgusting garbage - most of which is too awful to repeat - into the inboxes of a 13 year old girl struggling with her self image, being bullied at school and NOW its happening on her sanctuary - this site? What if a boy thinking about changing his major in college to English - but who isn't sure he has what it takes to follow his dreams and his passion is told that his writing should be burned and he should be in a psychiatric home? What happens, when this much HATE is spread through a system - the fandom system - which is SUPPOSED to be full of love and support and a home, a group of friends for those with similar interests.

You don't have to love every fic. You can be truly horrified or even HATE a fic or a theme or a plot or an idea, but instead of bullying the person who wrote it - have you considered just moving on from it? There are times when we as readers question something about the story - i.e. when one of my reviewers mentioned historical social norms of the time and referenced my divergence from that. That's is a legitimate concern and something you can absolutely bring up to someone! If it is really important to you to express your distaste and dislike with the story, you do that! I'm not here to stop you! I'm asking you to do in a way that isn't tearing down the other person on a personal level.

You purists can call me a whore all you like, and the rest of the haters can tell me all you want about how I clearly want the hate so they're going to oblige and keep sending it, I don't care. But I am begging you not to do it to other people.

Fandoms are here for love and support.  
However lightly or heavily embroiled in the fandom world that you are, that system is here for you, to love and support and to be your friend, so do your part and pass the nerdy light on to the next person.

I am working on the next chapter as planned and hope to have it to you soon!

Hugs and kisses to all.

I love you people!

xoxo - DT


	11. Chapter 11

**I took a bit of a break from this site in general but I'm back! Sorry I made you wait so long! Soooo... as a treat I shall be writing something that has been much requested... why Felicity and Georgiana don't get on! (AKA - this chapter) to be totally honest - when I began this story (over a year ago - what!?) I had intended to just make Felicity this awful person that everyone could hate and then have her die or leave or something but then as I was writing, something else just came out of my fingers and I got hella attached to Felicity and that is no longer the plan. So this Georgiana thing is something I came up with to fill the holes and if I missed any PLEASE tell me and I'll come up with something to patch them:) Also big thanks to my British counterpart and fellow smut lover** PP-FSOG-DJC **for being an awesome bouncing board and helping me workshop this ficlet...*psst... PP-FSOG-DJC** **knows how it ends guys:)* BUT without further ado...Here it is! The actual Chapter 10!**

* * *

 **OH. One more thing. Purists. Haters. People who were angry about this fic but for some reason are still reading it. You're about to be scandalized. I'd suggest finding some mommy-porn to read instead. Hugs and kisses! -The Temptress**

* * *

 **Georgiana**

I bounded into the room excitedly, thrilled that my brother and best friend were here upon her return to Pemberley. And Felicity. Felicity was here too. Why Miss Elizabeth had decided to become that woman's companion was beyond me, but then again, I was rather grateful that she had, or else Miss Elizabeth wouldn't be here at Pemberley now! The ladies were sat down with their embroidery as I entered the parlor, and I was shocked to see the change in Mrs. Darcy. She was no longer... a facade of perfection. She was laughing and joking with Miss Elizabeth, she was admitting to mistakes in her stitching, and she was... happy? She was never happy! Well she was always fake happy but it never reached her eyes as it was doing now.

"Miss Darcy!" Miss Elizabeth called out, standing quickly to greet me. "It is so wonderful to see you!"

"And you, Miss Elizabeth."

"Have you seen your brother yet?" She asked kindly. I shook my head. She glanced at Felicity.

"I believe you'll find him in the library, my dear." Felicity said. Why was she being nice to me? "He'll be looking forward to seeing you!" I nodded and took my leave of them leaving them to speak amiably and make me wonder what other great changes the addition of Miss Elizabeth had wrought.

* * *

 **Elizabeth**

"My dear friend," I said to Felicity. "I pray you wont be offended but I must ask you a question."

"You know we are intimate enough to speak frankly to one another, Lizzy." She replied wryly.

"When I met you all, you and Georgiana, you both seemed... at odds, with one another. You frightened her, still do, and you seemed to take a great deal of control over her. It is so unlike you that I wonder at that."

"You are right, of course, and there is a reason, although I must admit, a very bad one on my part."

"I doubt that. You are an intelligent woman, your reasoning skills are bound to have at least a solid base to them."

"Perhaps, but I was unfair to her." Felicity glanced around the room to ensure we were alone before continuing. "When I met her, Miss Darcy, that is, she was just reaching her womanhood, and blooming into a young lady. She was, and is, beautiful, Lizzy, even you must see that. I didn't quite realize what my nature was yet, and my initial attraction to her... well it frightened me. And I sought to avoid it completely. The passion she showed when playing the piano, or riding her horses, or dancing through the gardens... it made me feel that which frightened me, and so I encouraged her, most harshly I will admit, to forsake those activities as much as possible. I was frightened, you see, and confused, and I thought if I could forget the feelings I was having, I could make the whole problem disappear. But it was not to be. And soon enough, I became at peace with who I am and, my attraction to her had lessened as we got to know one another - she is beautiful and charming, but not quite my type, you see - by this point, however, our relations were so strained and set in their ways it became hard to change the nature of the relationship. I didn't think we could be close either way. I didn't think I could grow close to anyone, actually, until you showed me what a true friend is, Lizzy. You are right that it is unlike me, and I shall endeavor to change our relations. Miss Darcy deserves a better sister than that. And while I will not ever tell her that part of me, she need not know for us to grow close, and I hope that the three of us can be as sisters to one another." I smiled at my friend as she finished her monologue.

"Misguided, perhaps, but done so out of fear, and a fear based in reality. I can hardly fault you for that, my dear friend, though I agree that perhaps a change of interaction between the pair of you should indeed occur. I shall help where I can." She smiled and we returned to our needlepoint.

"Have you... any new books for me?" I asked cautiously. Felicity burst out laughing and grinned at me.

"Not at the moment, though we shall certainly order more. Tell me... was last night as much fun as it sounded?" I could feel a slight blush though I knew myself to be a bit proud alongside the embarrassment that we were heard.

"Perhaps." I replied evasively.

"Oh no, none of that!" She exclaimed. "I have to rely on books and my own two hands... I beg of you. Tell me _something_ , God knows I like a good story and I have to live vicariously through you these days. I'll buy you plenty of new books if you'll tell me what happened." She looked so eager, and I would be lying if I said I didn't like to brag.

"Very well, but we must go to your private parlor for this is a story which cannot be overheard by anyone." Felicity squealed in delight and taking my hand, led me away to the room we knew we could trust to be alone in.

* * *

 **Felicity**

"He made me orgasm by solely playing with my breasts." She said, her cheeks pink but her eyes alight with mischief. "His lips, his fingers, he was rubbing me, and pinching me, and suckling and licking at me with such fervor and such skill that eventually, without so much as his thigh between my legs, I was cumming. It was... glorious."

"And then?"

"He wanted to try something I'd read about so..."

"What?!"

"I held my own breasts together and he thrust between them. I couldn't imagine it being as tight as my cunt or my mouth, but he said he adored it, and I could tell he did because he came hard, and his seed was all over my breasts and chin, and a bit on my lips." She grinned. "I licked it off my lips, as you suggested, and he looked so ravenous at that, his ardor had returned immediately and he had to be inside me instantly. That coupling was fast and hard and he almost didn't remove himself on time." She frowned a bit them. "I must admit, while I understand why he can't cum inside me, I do wish he could... only because it's been so hard to stop so suddenly, and for him to have to pull out of me every time. It can... ruin the moment on my end from time to time." I bit my lip, knowing how important it was that she not get pregnant, but also understanding her predicament.

"He cums in you when you take him in your mouth, yes?" I asked. She nodded.

"I quite enjoy that actually, the look on his face as he cums, still in me. I just wish..."

"I know." I consoled her. I glanced at her sidelong, wondering if she might be interested in a different sort of impalement...

"Do you recall the book I gave you, about the Duke and his servant?" She nodded, recalling instantly. "Do you remember the part when he puts his fingers..." She blushed.

"Oh. Yes. In... _there._ " I nodded. "There are people who enjoy that sensation, and there are people who do not. Men who... have the same tendencies as I, towards their own gender, they will often put their entire cocks inside one another... _there_." Her eyes widened.

"Would that not hurt?!"

"I imagine it would not be the most comfortable thing at first, but several of my friends... men who-"

"Are like you." She finished for me.

"Yes, they say that it's actually quite enjoyable when you get used to the sensation. They've described it as a stretching sensation, not unlike what women feel when they are first bedded I imagine. Painful at first but then... quite nice."

"Oh." Her voice was strained now and her eyes wide.

"I'm not telling you to do it if you aren't interested, but if he came _there_ you wouldn't have to worry about conception, and he could cum inside you." I said. "It was simply an idea." I brushed it off. "But don't mention it to him unless you think you'd like to do it. For now just... think about it." I would be lying if I said I wasn't a touch aroused at the thought of it, Elizabeth, on her hands and knees, her legs spread apart, her sex open for all to see, Fitzwilliam, behind her, lining himself up with her tight, puckered hole. Her eyes growing wide and pained as he entered, before they turned to the bliss of being filled. Her hands playing with her cunt as he thrust slowly into her. Her being utterly filled, utterly fucked, him coming inside of her, leaking out of her, maybe even as she came from her own fingers. It was... hot. I certainly enjoyed a bit of playfulness in that orifice. It wasn't the main event, but if a finger or two were led astray as the others were playing with my cunt, the sense of being completely filled was a good one. A knock on the door silenced our conversation. It was nearly dinner time. I would have to revisit the thought later.

* * *

Sadie Ellers was the daughter of the visiting parson. That in itself was ironic for the moment I met her I knew her to be like me. Our eyes met, and we both just... knew. Fitzwilliam had invited the visiting parson, his wife, and his twin children, a boy, Victor, and a girl, Sadie, to stay at Pemberley, as the parsonage was not large enough to accommodate that many guests along with our usual parson's ever growing family. Victor and Vivian were nearly 19, and as Victor studied to be a clergyman like his father, Sadie traveled with her parents, hoping to find... well... women like me before she was married off. Victor was on break, and as such, was traveling with the family. I didn't know why I was fixating so much on their family story... other than to distract myself until this evening when I could reasonably get Sadie alone.

Luckily, it appeared she had been looking for a similar situation. When I excused myself during the separation of sexes, presumably to relieve myself, she was no more than two minutes behind, and caught up in the hall, taking my hand in hers. Her eyes told me all I needed to know, as they had all the while her parents had been chatting at the dinner table. I pulled us into an empty room, one I knew we wouldn't be bothered in. I had barely locked the door behind us when she pushed me up against the frame and was kissing me. I moaned quietly into her mouth as I felt her large breasts press up against mine.

"You're so beautiful, Mrs. Darcy." She murmured in my ear as she moved to nibble on it, her hands holding my corseted waist firmly.

"Felicity." I insisted. "That's the name you'll be calling out tonight, you may as well know start to use it now." She grinned, her eyes glinting happily.

"You'll call me Sadie, then, when you aren't just begging to the deities, that is." I bit my lip and pushed her back, following the movements of her body until I she backed into a settee." She plopped down on it, and I sat atop her, my legs parting to either side of her skirts. I settled myself there, and I pulled her face in, kissing her more soundly. My tongue poked between her lips and she giggled as our lips played against one another.

"You taste like a dream." I said quickly. "I want to find out what that cunt of yours tastes like." Her tongue ran over lips enticingly.

"You will. Tonight." She paused. "How are we to ensure your husband does not come to you." I laughed.

"You needn't fear that. He knows about my... tendencies. We have conceived enough children. He leaves me in peace and I help him find places to take his pleasure elsewhere." Her eyes widened jealously.

"God you're lucky." I nodded.

"I know. It all works out all right."

"I'm waiting to find a man who prefers other men to me, and then I shall give my hand in marriage and hopefully we might have ourselves a similar arrangement."

"It is a good plan. But for now..." I reached for her bodice and pulled it lower, my mouth reaching down to suckle on her cleavage.

"Oh! Yes!" She called out quietly. Her hips rolled up against mine and even with all the cloth between us, the motion itself was rather tantalizing. We thrust against one another, both desperate for skin on skin rather than this faux version we'd created for ourselves.

"Down the hall from your chambers, take a left and wait by the statue that's missing a nose. I'll meet you there and bring you to my room tonight." I told her as I removed myself from her breasts. I kissed her again, holding her in my arms, tightly.

"What time?"

"As soon as your parents have gone to sleep. I will be waiting." Sadie grinned.

"I can hardly wait."

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry it's been so long! Hoping to get the Sadie/Felicity chapter up soon - what would you all like to see after that? -Temptress**


	12. Chapter 12

I'm back:)

M'kay - So I've updated the description from MA to explicit, and added a historically inaccurate tag. Ya'll happy now? Probs not. Oh well:)

I also want to comment towards the person who asked I not portray homosexuals as deviant and depraved - I don't know if you noticed, but **everyone** in this story is deviant and depraved. That's sort of the point. The only way it gets discriminatory against LGBTQs is if I wrote ONLY the homos and bis as deviant.

Also to the guest reviewer who thought I was young... I'm 22. So... compared to you probably? You seem kind of like an old lady.

Anywhoo... here's some deviant lesbian stuff:) Enjoy!

* * *

 **Sadie**

Felicity Darcy was a beautiful woman. Her eyes glowed with a mischief that I was certain matched mine, and I knew from the moment I met her, that she was like me. (It was hard not to know.. after all, her eyes were rather attached to my wonderfully displayed decolletage!) And when she kissed me - oh! It was as if there was a fire burning in the pit of my soul. Of course, there probably was, hellfire that is. Papa told me so when he found me kissing a girl when I was 8. He'd tried to beat it out of me.

It didn't work. It was the only time I'd been caught and I knew I was lucky that way. Forget about eternal damnation, the law would string me up six ways to Sunday if anyone knew about this. That was why it was so easy to keep it a secret, really, the only people who knew, were as deep in sin as I, and we kept each other's secrets. I had found more than a few other women like me - a few men like me too, but that hardly mattered to my pursuit of happiness - on my parent's journey around the country. There were a few others who enjoyed the attentions of their husbands, but didn't mind mine either. I had been asked by at least one couple to join them in their bedroom, but I hadn't done so. I may love romantic relations as well as the next red blooded woman, but I drew the line at men. I simply had no interest.

As I readied myself for the evening, I chose my nightwear with care. I loved to dress up, to embrace my femininty. I knew many other woman like me who would prefer to wear men's clothing, or at the very least, a riding habit, or something much less feminine, but I loved lace, and silk, and ribbons, and jewels, and _pearls_ oh! I _loved_ pearls! Felicity seemed to be much in the same. Her dress, and style were utterly stunning, and she clearly too enjoyed the finer things in life. I would dress for her. A few months ago, I'd been given a gift from a great lady whose company I'd enjoyed more than once. It was a stunning nightgown, with a thin fabric, cut and draped to make my figure appear to it's best advantage. My breasts were very visible above the neckline of the garment, and if there was a bit of light in the room, the color of my nipples was visible through it as well. Standing in the right light, my entire silhouette was visible. I dabbed a touch of perfume on my neck, beneath my breasts, on my wrists, and between my thighs. I wanted to be a Goddess for her. I left on the simple jewelry I'd been wearing and added a pair of delicate slippers - another gift from a great lady - to the ensemble. Wrapping up in a dressing gown, I took a candle from my bedside, and checking one last time that I could still hear my parents' snores from the room beside mine, I crept down the hall.

Felicity was already waiting at the statue, and she took my arm and led my down a maze of hallways until we reached her room. She locked the door behind her and hurried about, lighting a few more candles, and ensuring all entrances from her parlor, and another door - one that likely led to the master's chambers I assumed - were tightly fastened and that we were truly alone. As she did so, I slipped off my dressing gown and lay it on a small table near the door. I moved towards a candle, putting myself in the best possible light. When she turned back to me she caught sight of me, and her expression instantly changed. Her eyes darkened, and her lips parted as her eyes raked my body.

I took advantage of her pausing to take her in now that she was still, and no longer a whirling dervish around her room. She wore a nightgown of silk, and its wide collar showed two delicate collar bones. There were two long sleeves, tied in various places, leaving drapes and puffs of fabric floating around her arm. the gown hugged her curves and I imagined what it would feel like as I pulled it up to taste her skin.

"Can I get you something to drink?" She asked politely. I shook my head and walked towards her. She met me in the middle of her room and we both leaned forward for a gentle kiss. It was wonderously nice. I sucked one of her lips between mine and nibbled at it gently. She moaned as her hands fell to my hips and she held me close to her. Without all that extra fabric our gowns were made of, I could actually feel her heat against me, through our nightgowns and I pressed into her as we deepened the kiss. She was hot against my skin and the feeling, as it always did, excited me immensely. I could feel the telltale signs of my excitement beginning to pool between my legs and I reached up to take her face in my hands. With her pulling me flush against her, I tilted her head back and delved my tongue inside her mouth, dancing with her own, and tasting every bit of her.

"Mrs. Darcy." I moaned lowly, nipping at her lip. "I should thank you for your hospitality." She hummed against me and the vibrations on my lips set them afire.

"Not at all." She returned, pulling back a bit so that she could look into my eyes as she spoke. "It would be my privilege to provide every pleasure for you while you are under my roof."

"Weellll..." I drawled out with a grin. "I am a touch warm." She caressed my cheek.

"Allow me to assist you." Felicity pulled my nightdress down my arms, and tugged at it intently, careful not to rip anything, but quickly ridding me of the garment. She stepped back and smiled, her eyes raking over my body, taking in my nakedness. "You're so beautiful." She breathed, stepping back into my embrace. Her lips attacked my neck and started kissing me, quickly working downward toward my nipples. She took a mouthful of my breasts and I moaned out at the sensation.

"Oh yes!" I cried out as her tongue darted out to tease one nipple. She nipped and sucked at my nipple until they were both pert and taut and crying out for more.

"Tell me what you like." She murmured against my skin. "As your consummate hostess I intend to please."

"I want to see you." I breathed out, panting only a little. "It's so often hurried touches, fully clothed in a closet or the like. We have time. No one to hide from all the way over here. I want to see you." Mrs. Darcy grinned and took a few steps back, biting her lip in a way that made my pussy ache. She went to work slowly, stripping down every piece of her nighttime attire. Slowly. Intentionally. It made me gush. Watching her undress was alike the unwrapping of a present.

The best present. When she was nude before me, my eyes took in every inch. Her skin was smooth, with a few freckles in intimate places. She had the curves of a woman who has born children, her breasts fuller and lower than my own, her hips wide and gloriously round. I wanted to bury my face between her thighs, which also held a bit more flesh than my own. I suddenly felt perfectly insignificant beside her. It didn't last long. How could I think of myself as she stalked forward, like a huntress eyeing her prey, and took me in her arms, pressing our bare skin upon bare skin. We writhed in pleasure against one another and I groaned at her warm touch, all over me.

"Are you wet for me, little Sadie?" She asked lowly. I nodded and took her hand in mine, showing her how wet. She smirked, looking proud to have caused it, and pulled her hand away, pushing one long digit between her lips, tasting me. I grew wetter at the sight.

"Sweet." She commented, pleased. "But how does it taste from the source?" She asked. She began to push me back until I ran into one of her walls. After placing a wet kiss on my lips she moved lower, licking her lips before attaching them to my mount. I cried out in pleasure as her small tongue darted out and licked at my bud, the stimulation to quick and short-lasted for my liking.

"Yes!" I cried out, resting one hand on her head, marveling at how soft and smooth her hair.

"Do you like it when I lick you?" She asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Darcy." I replied. "Please! Do it again!" She acquiesced, but instead of the quick movements of before, her tongue laved along my slit slowly, ending near my bud, swirling and massaging me. This was bliss. Her hands gripped my legs as she held herself close to me, her tongue assisting her in pleasuring me for a few minutes more. Two fingers plunged up into my cunt and I gasped at the welcome intrusion.

"How do you like being filled by me?" Mrs. Darcy asked, grinning ear to ear.

"Mmm! Yes!" Was all I could manage in return, relishing in the stretch of her fingers inside of me. She worked her fingers inside me, her tongue at my slit and my bud until I was cumming, hard and quick around her hand. She lapped at my express and moaned at the taste. I slumped down the wall, my legs exhausted from holding me up during such an experience.

"Felicity." I moaned as she licked her fingers off. "That was..."

"I was right." She said, archly. "Your cunt does taste delicious." I pulled her close and kissed the taste of my arousal off her lips. She was soft, and sticky, and I couldn't help but want more. We inched towards each other, our legs slotting together to allow our bodies to touch more thoroughly. I found her thigh between my legs and I pressed down. I was astounded when she did the same, on my own leg. Soon enough, we were thrusting up against one another's legs. The friction was nothing short of delicious. I suckled her lips as we took our pleasure on each other, and her hands gripped my hips, helping control our pace and closeness. My own hands found her breasts and I pulled at them, rubbing hard and deep. She moaned, a deep sound.

"Do you like when I touch your breasts?" I asked, pinching one nipple between my fingers. She squealed in delight and pushed her chest out, giving me better access, her hips increasing their pace.

"Don't stop, Sadie." She commanded, her head thrown back in delight. "Your clever, clever hands, don't you dare stop." I loved having this effect on her, seeing such a high and powerful lady, falling to pieces at my touch.

"I'm going to make you scream." I promised. "Who will hear?" She grinned at that.

"My husband and his mistress, most like." She said. "But I doubt they'll mind. They were making similar noises themselves before you arrived." Mistress. Not assignation, not quick fuck, a real, honest to God mistress. I thought back to the bright eyed beauty who had been introduced as Felicity's companion. At first I thought they might have been lovers, after all, Felicity was clearly a woman who preferred women, and that girl... well she looked like someone who had been fucked, and recently too. No one was that happy virginal. But then Felicity looked at me the way my brother looked at cake and I knew she wished to acquaint herself with my person. Perhaps that's what Felicity had meant in saying she helped her husband find his pleasure, she had employed his mistress so that her reputation need not suffer and to keep these things quiet. It was a brilliant solution. Maybe, if I couldn't find the right gentleman to marry of our persuasion, I would look for a man like Mr. Darcy, who cared not what I was, so long as I found him the right mistresses. That, would be a happy task for I dearly liked to look at women. A low cry brought me back to the present.

"Are you going to cum, Felicity?" I asked lowly, pinching both nipples, hard enough to hurt. She bit her lip and sped up her hips once more, their movements less sure, less measured now, more sporadic and frantic. She nodded and keened.

"Cum, cum and I'll cum on you when you've finished." It didn't take more than a few well timed squeezes of her sensitive breasts for her to curl her toes and scream out, her juices thicker and hotter on my leg. I rocked back and forth as well, pressing my pearl against her skin harder and harder with each pass until I joined her in bliss. I sighed. How glad was I that we had been invited here.


End file.
